Yours Truly
by Marissaaaa
Summary: Three years after the Second Wizarding War, Hermione's quiet life as a Healer is turned upside down the day she walks into Draco Malfoy's room at St. Mungo's. *Featured on HPFF home page for December's promoted New Authors!*
1. Chapter 1

**Yours Truly**

 _Marissaaaa_

"Granger?"

The door closed behind her with a sharp click. The witch merely glanced up from his chart before moving to the other side of the room to get supplies, the sound of her white Healer shoes tapping with each step as her soft chestnut brown curls bouncing behind her.

Draco would've noticed her trademark hair anywhere.

 _"Granger,"_ He repeated, scowling.

He hated to be ignored and it didn't help he had been stuck in this room forever. The air was sterile and clean and the noise around him was irritating. The whole day had been frustrating in general.

"Malfoy," She said, eyebrows furrowed, taking a few potions and wraps out of the drawer.

She moved towards the sink to wash her hands, dry them with a paper towel, and put gloves on. She finally met his eyes as she came to stand in front of him.

Brown collided with grey.

Draco would be lying to himself if he said his heart didn't skip a beat, but he'd blamed it on the pain in his leg.

"The bloody hell are you doing?" He winced as she grabbed his leg, observing it. His pain had increased during the hour he waited for a Healer and it was sore to the touch.

"Checking out your wound," Hermione replied smartly, rolling her chocolate brown eyes.

Draco huffed and crossed his arms, finally giving the witch in front of him a glance over.

Hermione's face was still pretty, smart, and soft. Her curls were long down the middle of her back, halfway pinned up. She was the same height as before, but thicker and fuller like a woman. She wore a white Healer dress, stockings, and shoes.

"When did you become a Healer?" He asked curiously. He really hadn't known. He'd only seen her a handful of times in the past few years.

She ignored him once more, handing him a pain potion instead, "Drink this, it's going to sting when I start to clean your wound."

Draco rolled his eyes and did as he was told. Trust Granger to keep it professional and right to the point, even after all these years, that hadn't changed.

Hermione pulled out a chair to sit down and started cleaning his leg. He finally looked down and regretted it. His leg looked worse than it felt. A long gash from his ankle to his knee look angry, nasty, and bloody.

' _Stupid Potter,_ ' Draco thought.

All his damn fault. The messy haired fool was the whole reason Draco was in this mess. Potter could never just sit and wait. He always had to rush in head first, waving his wand around like a bloody hero trying to save the day. Draco inwardly rolled his eyes at his partner.

"How'd you do this?" Hermione asked, finally speaking again as she finished up cleaning his wound.

A few loose curls fell in front of her brown eyes. It was almost mesmerizing.

He knew the incident report was probably in his medical charts, but he decided to entertain her anyway. It wasn't every day he was in a room alone with Hermione Granger and she wasn't ignoring him. It was a start, at least.

Draco scowled, "Your precious Gryffindor golden boy, must save everyone _Potter_ had me chase after him and I fell through the second story floor," He muttered the last part, but caught Hermione's small smile.

The brightest witch of their age _did_ have a sense of humor. A sick one, at that.

"I forgot Harry mentioned to me you were working with him," Hermione mumbled, rubbing a sticky menthol smelling goo over his leg, her touch soft and gentle.

Draco's eyebrow twitched. He really did try not to think about that part of his life.

After the War, The Malfoys struggled to pick up the broken pieces. With Harry's help, Draco and his father were spared for their crimes. Draco had spent the first year after the war in the Manor with his family, away from friends and the public. While Narcissa worked hard on their public image on the outside, Draco and his father tried to find some sort of peace and understanding on the inside. It was hard at first. There was so much anger and resentment from Draco.

He was so sodding angry. At the world, at Voldemort, at his father for allowing him and his mother to be exposed to such danger and dark magic. He felt hot rage every time he looked down at his arm, angry he never stood up for his own beliefs, mad he had blindly followed his father, and he felt remorse for all the victims. Eventually, however, they had came to a mutual understanding. They had too, after months of hostile silence and Narcissa's guilty stares. His father was never going to be the talkative type, nor he, but in his own ways, he proved to Draco and his mother how sorry he really was.

The second year after the war, Draco was sick and tired of being isolated. Tired of feeling guilty, he wanted to find his purpose in life. He had caused so much harm and horror during his younger years, he had to redeem himself for _his_ soul. He didn't want to do bad, he wanted to do good. Make a difference in the world, something that would make a difference to _him._

So, he became an Auror. And of course, fate had a sick sense of humor, and Draco's was paired with Harry bloody fucking Potter.

They weren't enemies, but it didn't mean Draco wanted to work next to the bloke much less be partners. But in the end, it wasn't bad and he never questioned Moody's decisions again. Everything Harry wasn't, Draco was. They were ying and yang, black and white, but they made one hell of a Auror team.

Draco looked down at his leg and winced. That, of course, was when Harry wasn't trying to be a damn hero all the time.

It had been three years now since the defeat of Voldemort and Draco could count on one hand how many times he had seen Granger.

They've never spoke, merely exchanged polite nods. She really had taken him by surprised when she walked in his room at St Mungo's.

"When did you become a healer, Granger?" He asked once more, his curiousity finally getting the better of him.

Hermione bit her lip, wrapping his leg up in gauze with soft hands. She was so focused and gentle, he couldn't help but stare. She did look older; the war had done a number on her, he knew. All the running, death, and despair could do that to a person.

He could tell she was debating on answering him. He could practically hear her thoughts churning in that brilliant brain of hers.

"Right after the war," she finally said, finishing up the his leg wrap. Standing up, she patted his leg, smirking when he winced.

"Okay," she said, picking up his chart, writing notes down.

"You'll be fine. We're going to keep you over night for observation to make sure the swelling goes down and you don't get an infection. I gave you a pain potion mixed with sleeping draught, so you should be asleep within the hour. Keep your leg up and don't move too much. I'll be back to check on your vitals in a few hours."

She put the supplies up and threw away the trash, glancing at him once more before she started to head towards the door.

"Granger, wait," Draco reached out, grabbing her hand.

It was so impulsive, out of character and reckless of him, he almost snatched his own hand back. The hell was wrong with him? It was sodding _Granger!_

Hermione stopped, stunned by his out of character affection, but she didn't remove her hand. His hand was so much bigger than hers, almost swallowing her hand whole. Glancing down at the blonde haired man on the hospital bed, she opened her mouth to speak but Draco spoke first.

"May we do lunch?"

Hermione tried to remove the shock from her face with a stare of indifference. Draco suddenly remembered who and what they both were. He masked his own surprised, drawing his hand back like something burned him. This _was_ Granger. And Draco would blame it on curiosity, stupidity, sheer impulse, and pain potions before he'd ever admit he found Hermione Granger attractive in her damn Healer outfit.

"Okay." Hermione nodded briskly, turning on her heel, her soft curls bouncing as she walked out the door.

Fate's sense of humor was becoming sickier by the second. Of all the healers, he _had_ to have Hermione Granger, war heroine and brightest witch of the century.

Fate even met ironic, when Granger agreed to go to lunch with him.

The Granger he remembered and knew, would have hexed him and wore his ear off with her know-it-all mouth.

' _Yes,_ ' Draco thought sleepily, his body reclining against the medical bed, his eyelids betraying him, it was definitely the pain potions and Potter's fault for landing him in this situation.

 _Stupid Potter._


	2. Chapter 2

St Mungo's was chaos.

Hermione couldn't absorbed the scene in front of her fast enough. Every inch was covered with people. She had never seen it so frantic or crazy. She could feel her brain working, thoughts processing quickly as her body and legs took control. The noise almost resembled a loud Muggle rock concert. The sound of hospital beds and feet pattering across the floor, Healers and Mediwizards echoing one another, groans and murmurs of pains came from all around Hermione. There were patients everywhere. Hermione assumed St Mungos ran out of rooms because there were patients laying down and floating on beds wherever space was available.

Hermione grabbed a medical cart and hauled it over to the sitting area where there were around twenty sick witches and wizards alike.

"Okay," Hermione took one big deep breath, her brown eyes scanning the small crowd.

"Who hasn't been seen?" Everyone raised their hand quitely, too sick and in pain to do much of anything else. Everyone wore the same greenish skin tone with a painful purple rash all over. Some were worst than others, bleeding and oozing of nasty infectious pus as they scratched and picked at their skin. Others were coughing and sneezing, sparks flying out their nose as they did so.

Hermione bit her lip, grabbing the first trainee Healer she saw in the hall and got to work.

"Marie," she said, putting her hand on the shorter witches shoulder. She was an American transfer and very new and frightened.

"Stay calm, we have a lot to do." Hermione glanced over the witches shoulder, observing the patients again. "This looks like a bad outbreak of Dragon Pox." She reached over to the medical cart, grabbing a few supplies.

"What? But an outbreak hasn't happened in decades!"

"I know," Hermione nodded, trying to not let her overworked brain get the best of her. She had a million questions of her own. The loud noise around her wasn't helping and she had to remain focused.

"Here," she handed Marie a clipboard and a few supplies.

"Listen carefully, we don't have time. I need you to go down the hall and collect enough antidotes, pain potions, and calming draught for about twenty people. Then, I need you to go around assessing the severity, gather personal information and names. Dragon Pox can be fatal if not treated, especially in older and sickier patients. We need to hurry and act quickly." With that, Marie nodded and turned on her heel.

Hermione took another deep breath and headed over to a sick and screaming toddler. Today was going to be long and it was just getting started.

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.

.

"I'd let Acromantula eat my left foot to have more days like this," Ron said, smiling, propping his feet on his desk, leaning back in his chair, closing his eyes and interlocking his fingers behind his head.

"No, you wouldn't, you prat. You'd run screaming like a girl in the other direction," Neville, his Auror partner, chimed in, finishing up the rest of his coffee.

Draco eyed his desk, Longbottom had three other empty coffee cups from that morning that needed to be thrown away. Clearly, the black muggle substance was addictive.

Ron blanched, shuddering at the thought of the monstrous spider.

Draco rolled his eyes at the two, handing Harry some paperwork, "Potter, sign the bottom."

"Moody's only gone today," Harry chuckled, signing his name for Draco, and handing the papers back. Draco scoffed at his hideous handwriting.

"And it's the best damn day ever," Ron said, laughing and closing his eyes. It's not like they had anything better to do with Moody out of the department for the day on a foriegn trip.

"Weasley being a lazy git is nothing new."

Ron cracked opened one eye and flicked Draco off.

Looking around the room, Draco shook his head inwardly. Had you told any one of them four years ago they'd be working together, they would've laughed. However, after The Second War, the Auror department had suffered the most. With over half of the current members dead, anyone who had fought in the war was allowed to apply. Harry, Ron, and Neville had applied a year before Draco. Harry and Ron had played a huge role in weeding out the corruption. Harry was even on his way to becoming Head Auror in a few years. Draco, while a year behind and a few strings pulled, caught up fast and learned quickly. It felt good to do something worthwhile. Something that didn't involve torturing and murdering muggle borns. Draco pushed that thought as far back into his mind as he could.

"I think I might take an early lunch. Ron, Harry, Malfoy, y'all want to grab a bite to eat?" Neville asked, rubbing his stomach as it growled loudly.

Harry nodded his head and Ron let out an undistinguished noise. They all three cleaned up their desks, grabbing their coats, making their way to the floo for lunch.

"You coming, Malfoy?" Harry asked, noticing his partner still hasn't moved from his desk.

"No, I got some work to finish."

Harry shrugged and the three of them headed out to lunch.

It was a lie, of course, Draco was hardly ever behind on any type of work. Plus, he'd rather not let Granger's two bestfriends know what he was doing when _he_ didn't even know himself. Not like he confided in them or anything. He respected Potter and merely tolerated Longbottom and Weasley. On a good day, he would even go as far as saying he respected them as well. Just a smidge. However, the overreaction and sheer stupidity of the two if they found out, was something Draco was not dealing with today. He just wanted company for lunch. _Granger's_ company.

It had been a little over two weeks now since Draco last saw Granger. He had owled her twice to schedule their lunch, but every time she had wrote back saying that she was busy with work and needed a raincheck.

Personally, Draco found it rude. As a Pureblood, Lucius and Narcissa attended every event, function, party, and dinner they were invited too; even if they didn't like the company. He could not count all the times his mother had let her hair down and scowled at the women as soon as they left her weekly tea parties. Not only that, maybe Draco was even a little offended. And it was pisssing Draco off and he became even more bloody pissed when he realized how worked up he was getting over _Granger._

Honestly though, who didn't have twenty minutes they could spare for over two weeks now? Draco knew they had a rough past, especially Granger with his own family, but Draco was so far past prejudice now. What was a mudblood when he himself was dirty? He scowlee down at the Dark Mark on his arm. He was more tainted than Hermione Granger was even capable of being. Draco scowled deepened, ignoring the chatter around him. Why the bloody hell did he even ask her such a stupid question? The last few times he had seen Granger had been during The Second War at Hogwarts, his stay at St Mungo's, and at The Malfoy Manor where she was tortured.

Draco rubbed his temples. He was doing far too much thinking about Granger these days. For fucks sake, none of it should even matter! He shouldn't even care about the situation or Granger. He didn't even know why he felt like this, but bloody hell, he did! And he'd be damned if she ignored him one more time. Draco despised being ignored.

With that in my mind, Draco gathered his things, brushed his bangs out of his eyes, and headed to St Mungo's.

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.

.

When Draco arrived on the floor Hermione worked, or the floor he assumed she worked, he almost turned back around. He had never seen St Mungo's so crowded and full of sick witches and wizards. He was about to approach the receptionist desk when a voice behind called out his name.

"Malfoy?"

"Granger, just the witch I was looking for," He said dryly, his six foot frame towering over her.

He could tell Hermione had a busy day. Her hair was even messier than usual, her Healer outfit wrinkled with a few stains. Her eyes were tired and she looked exhausted.

Hermione pursed her lips, shaking her head.

"What do you want? As you can see," she waved her hand around at the chaos. "We are so swarmed and behind. I don't have time for this."

Draco would have been offended if he hadn't known how she was going to act. Granger was so predictable and true to nature, it was ridiculous. He was about to speak again until a voice behind Granger cut him off.

"Hermione, dear, go take your lunch hour. Ah! Nope. Close your mouth, I don't wanna hear it. I have been trying to get you to go for the last two hours. You've been here since five in the morning without so much of a breath. You have been running around this place like a witch without her wand. We have plenty of help for the hour you will be gone," the older witch, Hermione's boss, the Head Healer, said with a wink.

Hermione tried to protest once more, but the other Healer shooed the brunette away, heading back down the hall.

Hermione huffed, folding her arms over her chest, walking forward.

"C'mon Malfoy, since you so kindly showed up at my work uninvited, you can pay."

"My pleasure," Draco smirked, pleased he had got his way finally.

With a _Snap!_ the two young adults were gone.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione and Draco had first arrived in front of The Leaky Cauldron and peeked inside the crowded place, now owned by Hannah Abbott, and decided against it. It was lunch hour in most parts of the wizarding world and students were home from wizarding school for the Summer as well.

They soon find themselves in a secluded Muggle spot Hermione suggested. She thought Draco would have sneered at the idea of an all Muggle restaurant, but his stoic expression never changed. She then convinced herself it was because he didn't want any Purebloods to see him with a Muggleborn.

Yes, she nodded inwardly, that was the only way it would make sense.

"Granger," Draco drawled, holding open the door for her.

Hermione rolled her eyes, not liking their height difference. She squared her shoulders and held her chin high, welcoming the delicious aroma and friendly atmosphere.

After a nice tip from Draco, the hostess soon showed them to a booth in the far back corner. A couple sat a few sits down but other than that, they webringing one on that side of the restaurant. She presented them with menus and silverware and told them their server would be right there.

"You didn't have to do that, Malfoy," Hermione rolled eyes, picking up the menu, "We're in a muggle restaurant. Nobody will see us."

"Is that what you think, Granger?" Draco scowled, "That I'm hiding you?'

Hermione blushed, opening her mouth to speak. She wasn't expecting that.

Draco held up his hand to stop her, "I would not have even offered to take you to lunch if that was the bloody case, Granger," he sneered, "That's beneath even me."

Hermione flushed, embarassed and irritated with herself for allowing Malfoy to work her up. Plus, she was so exhausted and hungry.

"Excuse me for not knowing your intentions, Malfoy," Hermione said hotly, narrowing her brown eyes. "Not like we have the best track record."

"Merlin, you Gryffindors will hold a grudge until we're all in a grave," Draco rolled his unique eyes, folding his napkin in his lap.

Hermione was about to retort, but the waitress had cut her off. She quickly took their drinks orders, two waters and a bowl of lemons, and ushered back to the kitchen.

"We can argue all day, Granger," Draco smirked, watching Hermione take her hair down. "I don't mind."

"Of course not, you simply love getting a rise out of people." Hermione huffed, finally making eye contact with the man in front of her.

His grey eyes had swirls in them.

Her heart skipped a beat and she felt electricity through her body. Breaking the intense stare, she picked up the menu again.

"Only you, Granger."

Hermione had enough with him and this day. Maybe she was hungry or exhausted, but she was done playing his stupid mind games.

Who did he think he was just inviting her to lunch and then showing up at her place of work unannounced? They weren't friends. This wasn't Harry or Ron or Ginny. This was bloody Malfoy. The same blonde boy who teased her blood purity and hair growing up, the same boy who sneered down at her in the hallways, the same one who was a former Death Eater...

"Bugger off, Malfoy," Hermione closed her menu sharply.

"I'm sick of your charades. What do you want from me? We haven't spoken in years much less seen each other."

Draco merely stared at her with his sharp piercing gaze. Hermione refused to break eye contact, she wasn't letting him win this one.

"Because Granger," he scowled, frustrated now, running a hand through his pale hair.

He didn't know himself, so how was he supposed to give her an answer? What was it about Granger that could work his ever last nerve. He'd be damned if he couldn't do a nice gesture. No, these Gryffindors always needed a reason, always needed a bloody answer right then and there.

Thankfully, the waitress had come back with their drinks, took their orders, and hurried away.

Hermione sighed, staring at her glass, exhaustion overcoming her from the stressful day at St Mungo's. It didn't help this had been her twelfth day working without an off day. She didn't have the energy in her to figured out the whys and whats of Draco Malfoy.

At least, not today, not in this moment right now.

"Request the rest of the day off," Draco said, noticing her tired expression.

"I can't," she said, shaking her head, forgetting for the moment that she was irritated with him. "We're understaffed and they need my help, especially with the Dragon Pox outbreak."

Draco nodded and didn't say anything else. The food had soon arrived and Hermione dug into her steak and mashed potatoes as politely and quickly as could.

"Slow down, Granger," Draco smirked, picking up an oyster. "I never thought you would be a meat and potatoes kind of witch."

He wouldn't admit it aloud, but it was a turn on. Seeing a girl with a hearty appetite, not afraid to eat in front of a males company. Growing up, Pureblood witches hardly ate salad in front of their partners, much less a full meal. He couldn't remember any Slytherin girl eating like Hermione was right now.

"I'm starving," she said sheepishly, remembering her manners, and dabbing her mouth with a napkin.

"When's the last time you ate?" Draco asked, arching a perfect eyebrow.

Has his gaze always been that intense? Hermione wondered, shaking her head inwardly as if to to rid her unwanted thoughts.

"Yesterday morning," she answered, after swallowing another bite of medium rare steak.

"That's unhealthy," Draco frowned.

Hermione shrugged, "I've been taking extra shifts and even working overnights a few nights a week. I hardly have time to sleep." She really didn't mind. She had no spouse or children and she honestly loved her job.

Draco frowned again and didn't say anything else.

"I became a Healer because I wanted to help people. Find my purpose.. It was so easy for Ron and Harry after the war. They became Aurors and never looked back." Hermione continued, playing with her food. She didn't know why she was even telling Draco this. Her mouth was moving faster than her brain and she was too exhausted to analyze every word she and Malfoy said to each other.

"I-" Hermione cut herself off, frowning, furrowing her brows.

"I'm still not sure if I have found my purpose." She blushed deeply, embarassed she confided in Draco.

They were recently bickering and here she was expressing her feelings. Merlin, she was tired. She had never even acknowledged the words in her own head much less spoken them aloud because she did enjoy her job. She found honor in helping others, but _something_ was missing.

Draco wiped his mouth and hands with his napkin, folding it neatly before placing it on his empty plate.

His stare was so nerve-wracking and Hermione could never understand what he was thinking, not even when they were younger. He had hid his emotions so well, there was no idea what was going through his head.

"Change it then," Draco said simply, watching Hermione finish her food.

Hermione rolled her eyes at the blank statement. "Yes, because it's so simple." She wiped her mouth, and stacked her and Draco's plates neatly for the waitress.

Draco left more than enough for the bill and a generous tip, gathering his coat. Hermione stood, grabbing her purse, turning to him.

"This wasn't awful," she said, feeling slightly shy, "Thanks for lunch, Malfoy."

Draco nodded. "Anytime, Granger." He looked down at his watch as they walked outside.

"Do you want me to _Apparate_ back with you?" He asked politely.

Hermione shook her head, blushing. She wasn't used to this older Draco Malfoy. The Malfoy she knew wouldn't have spent five minutes alone with her.

"I'm fine, thanks." She started to walk forward, stopping and turning back around as her curls bounced behind.

The sun was shining down on her, the rays bringing out the hues of bronze and gold in Hermione's hair, making her chocolate eyes stand out. The summer breeze blew by, her long curly hair swaying back and forth, the scent of her strawberry shampoo driving Draco slightly mad.

"I'll owl you."

Draco smirked.

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Ginny Weasley was on cloud nine.

The sun was shining, the breeze was cool, and she had absolutely loved this new Muggle sundress she bought. Her legs, toned and shapely from Quidditch, looked amazing in it. She walked with a skip in her step, humming slightly, and window shopping by herself.

Growing up with a big family and little money, Ginny never had the luxury to spend and shop how she wanted. She felt so independent and strong, having her own hard earned money to spend how she pleased. Becoming star Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies was the best thing to ever happen to her. Not only was Quidditch her passion, but it was there for her in the worst time of her life two years ago.

She hated how vividly she could remember the day of her tryouts. It was the happiest and worst day of her young life.

 _Harry had just came home after_ a _long day_ _of work. Ginny was rechecking her bags for the third time, making sure she had everything she needed for the Holyhead Harpies tryouts. This was the most important thing to ever happened to her and she'd be damned if she lost her opportunity because of something minor._

 _She could tell something was off the moment Harry walked into the room. She could feel the vibes radiating from him. She knew him so well, she heard the words before he said them._

" _Gin," He ran a hand through his messy black hair._

 _"I can't do this anymore." He looked down the floor, purposefully not meeting her eyes._

 _Ginny was livid, throwing a pillow at him from off the bed they shared together. Harry dodged it quickly and that fueled her anger even more._

 _"If you're gonna break up with me, at least look me in the eyes, Harry!" Ginny spat his name, feeling hot and seeing red._

 _Of course, he would do this on the most important day of her life. Everything always had to be about Harry bloody fucking Potter._

 _"Ginny," Harry finally met her eyes. "We've been arguing every day for months..."_

 _It wasn't a lie and she knew it as well. They argued about any and everything. Their personalities and interests clashing. They hadn't even had sex in over two months, sleeping as far away from each other as they could._

 _"Out last fight was this morning," Harry tried to reason and all Ginny could see was red and anger and hurt._

 _Who did he think he was?_

 _"So, that's it, Harry?" Ginny threw her hands up, almost sobbing. "You're giving up on us?"_

 _Her heart ached._

 _Harry was her first crush, her first love, her first everything. He was her happily ever after._

 _She knew they weren't getting along as of late, but that didn't mean they couldn't fix things between the two of them._

 _"No," Harry shook his head, tears prickling his green eyes._

 _The same beautiful eyes Ginny fell in love with._

 _"I'm saving_ us. _I want you in my life, Gin, and if continue this, we're gonna hate each other."_

After that, Ginny never looked back.

Shaking her head, Ginny felt the familiar dull ache in chest. Two years later, she still felt sad and nostalgic sometimes; that their relationship didn't work out between them. Harry was her fairy-tale, her happy ending, but sometimes, life just didn't work out that way.

She was about to turn the corner, a small Muggle coffee shop calling her name, but a familiar sight of bushy hair caught her eyes.

Hermione? The bloody hell was she doing in a Muggle spot in the middle of a work day? She walked forward, gasping at the sight. Draco Malfoy? What the fuck was going on?

Ginny had a million questions. With that in mind, she turned on her heel, reminding herself to talk to Hermione later.

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.

.

After a long day of work and even stranger lunch with Draco, Hermione barely had the energy to show up at Ron's flat after Harry owled her. She was so drained physically and mentally, but her friends always came first to her.

"Harry? Ron?" She peered around the corner, rolling her eyes at the sight. Years later and she was still taking care of the two.

Ron was flung across his recliner, legs hanging over the side of the chair, a bottle of half empty firewhiskey in his hand, mumbling to himself. Harry was upside down on the couch, giggling loudly, drunk.

"Merlin! Look at you two!" She exclaimed, putting her hands on her hips sternly. She hadn't even had the time to go home and change out of Healer outfit much less deal with a drunk Harry and Ron. She should have known better when Harry's messy handwriting was even messier than usual.

"It's only after three in the afternoon!"

"It's," Harry hiccups, "Five o'clock somewhere."

Hermione rolled her eyes once again, snatching the firewhiskey from Ron and taking a shot herself. The whiskey burned down her throat all the way to her stomach.

 _'Could_ _today_ _just_ _be_ _over_ _with already_ ,' she thought to herself.

"Ugh," she wiped the back of her mouth, setting the alcohol down on the table, and sitting beside Harry on the couch. He was still upside down and thoroughly enjoying himself.

"Why are you drinking on a weekday anyway?"

"She left me!" Ron exclaimed drunkly, "Again! Took all her things and just left! Left _me!"_ Ron had flipped the chair backwards in his drunk excitement, landing clumsily on the floor.

"You see," Harry said, giggling again, reaching for the firewhiskey on the table and pouting when Hermione swatted his hand away.

"It's all his fault, 'Mione," he continued, slurring his words.

Hermione couldn't help but pinch the bridge of her nose. This was the third time this month Ron and Lavender had broke up. And each time, Ron got sodding drunk with Harry along for the ride. As if Lavender wasn't going to come back the next day. Hermione figured it was because they used any excuse to get schnockered.

Hermione scoffed, rolling her brown eyes, and picking up the alcohol again.

 _Boys._


	4. Chapter 4

An hour later and the other half of the Firewhiskey gone, Hermione shot up as fast as lightening, muttering to herself with a panicked look in her brown eyes.

Ron, who had finally managed to fix his chair, eyed her with hazy blue eyes, "What's up your knickers, 'Mione?"

Hermione, ignoring Ron or not hearing him, stopped in mid stride, erupting into full blown giggles. The short brunette doubled over, clenching her sides in a fit of laughter. She had went to owl her boss about work tomorrow, but forgot she had the day off. For some reason, she found this hilarious.

Harry threw his head back laughing, messy black hair falling into his green eyes, "Ron, she's wankered."

Personally, Harry enjoyed every time Hermione had a few drinks with Ron and him. She was the most amusing drunk he knew. Hermione, who was normally so composed and professional, loosened up and had fun with the two of them.

Ron hiccups, "Me too." He collapsed sideways on the chair again.

Hermione finally managed to pull herself together, sitting next to Harry.

"I was going to owl but my boss, but I forgot I'm off tomorrow."

"Good," Ron sat up to nod at her and Harry, his eyes glassy and his grin cheesy.

"You and Harry can stay here. You can even sleep with me 'Mione." Ron winked at his bestfriend and Hermione blushed.

She tried not too. Ron did this every time he and Lavender broke up and he had one too many drinks. She and Ron would always have history and she didn't know if she hated that fact or not. He had been her first boyfriend and the man who had taken her virginity. There would always be a soft spot for Ron in Hermione's heart, one corner tucked away and reserved only for him. She and Ron were bittersweet in that way. They did try at a relationship after The Second War, but it was hard. More difficult than it should had been because they were so young and awkward. Both of them trying to be adults and deal with their trauma the war left behind. They fought and argued every single day. Both of them decided their relationship worked well as best friends. Hermione would always want Ron in her life and he wouldn't be if they had stayed together.

"We need more alcohol," Harry pouted, interrupting the two and eyeing the half empty bottle, snapping his fingers.

"I know! Owl Ginny and tell her to bring more Firewhiskey!"

"Great idea, Harry!" Ron tore his gaze away from Hermione, trying to stand up and failing as he flopped back down onto to the chair.

"Oy, how about 'Mione does that?"

Hermione laughed, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol, and her mind cloudy.

"What would you boys do without me?"

Harry grinned, his green eyes sparkling. "We'd be lost, that's for sure."

"Oh, stop trying to butter me up. I'm owling Ginny now." Hermione laughed, standing up and walking past Ron into the kitchen.

She really did enjoy her time with Harry and Ron. It was rare these days to find the trio all in the same room. As the years continue to past by, so did their free time between work and priorities. She loved Harry and Ron more than anyone in the entire world. They were her bestfriends, her family, the only two people who knew Hermione better than herself, and they had fought a war together. The trio had seen death and victory along side each other. Hermione's bond between the two would never change and she was so thankful for her boys. In reality, _she_ would be lost without them.

Writing a quick letter to Ginny, she helped herself to Ron's kitchen. She grabbed three glasses of water for the three of them while they waited on Ginny. She really hoped she wasn't at practice, but didn't she have the day off?

Hermione couldn't remember, shaking her head as to rid her thoughts, she proceeded into the living room with the drinks.

"See, I knew you were the brightest witch of our age for a reason." Harry winked, grinning sloppily, plucking a glass of water out of Hermione's hand and sitting back down on the couch.

"Oh, stop." Hermione blushed, handing Ron a glass. The redhead chugged the water down in one loud gulp.

"Ah! Thanks 'Mione." Ron handed her back the empty glass, sitting back into his chair with a satisfied grin.

Hermione shook her head, sitting the glasses down on the table, some things never changed.

"Ron, I need some clothes if I'm spending the night. I'm still in my work uniform." Hermione looked down, if she was going to continue drinking with the boys, she needed something more comfortable. And she was too tipsy now to even attempt to go home and change.

"You know where my room is, 'Mione."

Hermione didn't answer, but proceeded down the hallway to Ron's room on the right. Of course, she knew. She had too many memories in that bedroom she rather not reminiscence about. Ron and her had been over for a long time, but it didn't help Hermione hadn't dated or even entertained anyone since they ended. She rather spend her time with work rather than in another relationship.

Hermione entered the room, closing the door with a soft click. It still smelled the same, like Ron and clean laundry. She walked towards the dresser, pulling out a pair of grey sweatpants and a blue t-shirt. She quickly changed, letting her messy bun down, and placing her work clothes neatly in a chair off to the side.

By the time she had finished and walked into the living room, Ginny was standing in the middle of the room with two bottles of firewhiskey and pumpkin juice.

"I'm mad you gits couldn't invite me to the party until you needed something," Ginny said, placing the alcohol next to the glasses on the table. She was dressed comfortably in muggle blue jeans and a Holyhead Harpies t-shirt.

"Oy, pass me that whiskey," Ron chimed from his spot.

Ginny rolled her eyes, "That's all I'm good for these days."

She handed Ron a bottle, pulling out four shot glasses from her bag.

"You know we love you, Ginny," Hermione said, smiling at her female bestfriend, and pouring each of them a shot.

"Cheers!" Harry said, clinking his shot glasses with the two of them.

Ginny and Hermione threw back their shots with ease, laughing when Harry made a face. He never could handle his alcohol.

"You're gonna leave me out now, yeah?" Ron asked, waving a finger at the three. "Wankers all of you."

"You have a bottle in your hand, mate," Harry said, laughing at Ron's drunk stupidity, and pouring another shot for the three of them.

"Codswallop!" Ron exclaimed, grin lopsided as he jumped up, his whiskey spilling slightly on his carpet.

Ginny shook her head at her brother, interlocking her arm through Hermione's, the two taking a shot in unison.

It wasn't often Hermione drank alcohol nor the four of them gathered together. After her and Harry's break up, it took awhile to adjust and find their normalcy again. They were just now slowly but surely easing back into a comfortable friendship.

A few shots later, Harry and Ron were arguing over who could beat who in chess. Before long the two had the magical chess set out with a bottle of firewhiskey passing between them. It was quite amusing. The chess pieces kept insulting the drunken pair as the two fussed at each other.

"I'm peckish and going to make sandwiches," Hermione said, her stomach growling and her head cloudy from the alcohol. She stood up, giggling as she tried to catch her balance. The whiskey had warmed her body to the core and she felt fuzzy and disoriented.

"Good idea, 'Mione!" Ron exclaimed, not looking up from the chess match.

"Please, spit in his sandwich," Harry said, wincing as Ron's piece knocked over his.

"Oy, don't be a sore prat because I'm kicking your arse."

Harry huffed, ignoring him, and taking a swing of firewhiskey straight from the bottle.

"I'll come with you," Ginny said, rolling up a piece of junk mail from Ron's coffee table, and throwing it at her brother's head.

"Sod off, Ginny."

Ginny flicked Ron off, following Hermione into the kitchen. The brunette had already pulled out turkey, cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, and pickles.

"Here," Ginny opened Ron's bread container, handing Hermione a loaf of bread.

"Why thank you," Hermione giggled and Ginny wondered if it was safe for Hermione to use a knife to cut the bread.

"You know what," Ginny walked over, gently plucking the knife from Hermione. "I'll do that."

Hermione, Ron, and Harry had been drinking since five o'clock that afternoon. It was now dark and some time past eight. No knives for any of the three, Ginny decided.

Hermione grabbed paper plates from the cabinets. Trust Ron to spend extra money on something to avoid having to wash dishes the magical or muggle way.

"Oh yeah," Ginny piped up, finishing up cutting the bread into slices. "I've been meaning to talk to you all day, but you never came home after work."

Ginny and Hermione had shared a flat together for over a year now. After Hermione and Ron seperated, she had nowhere to go but her parents because she didn't want to live alone. Luckily, Ginny wanted the company too and offered to spilt the rent with Hermione. It was a nice exchange for the both of them and they became close over the months.

"Yeah," Hermione hiccups, "Harry had owled me at work to come over. What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Well," Ginny said coyly, raising a well groomed eyebrow, and dressing the sandwiches as Hermione grabbed the mustard out the fridge.

"I was shopping earlier and I saw you and _Malfoy_ outside of a muggle restaurant. Care to explain yourself?"

Trust Ginny to be blunt and straight to the point.

Hermione blushed, caught off guard, and trying to busy herself with putting the sandwiches on the plates.

"Lower you voice for one, Gin," Hermione whispered, eyeing the direction Harry and Ron were at. She really was not trying to hear the opinions of her two male best friends that evening.

"And two, it was just _lunch._ I had treated him at St Mungo's two weeks ago, where he asked me to a meal..." Hermione refused to say the word date. "He kept owling me until I finally said yes."

"Right," Ginny said, nodding, not believing a word Hermione said.

The brunette could convince herself all she wanted that it was just lunch, but Ginny knew Hermione well enough to know the older girl hardly ever entertained the opposite sex much less went out to eat with them. Ginny actually giggled out loud.

Hermione ignored the redhead, grabbing two plates as Ginny grabbed the other two, and walked into the living room. This conversation was far from over, Ginny thought.

"About time!"

"Get lost?"

"Oh, be quiet," Hermione said, picking a stray piece of lettuce off the plate and throwing it at Ron.

"Yeah next time I'll make sure to put something in it," Ginny said, sitting down with Hermione, and passing out the plates.

The four ate and laughed, joking around as they passed the Firewhiskey around in a circle. It was nice to put the pressure of careers and relationships aside for one night and drink with friends.

.

.

.

The next morning came quickly and abruptly as a loud knock on Ron's door echoed through the flat.

Ginny groaned loud from her spot on Ron's chair, pulling a pillow over head and covering her ears. She wasn't a morning person on a good day much less a hungover one.

Harry sat up quickly from his spot on Ron's couch, his Aurors instincts taking over as he searched the room with tired but alert green eyes. His black hair stood in all directions while his glasses hung halfway off his face.

Hermione stirred from the other end of the couch she had shared with Harry, accidentally kicking him as she sat herself up. She yawned, glancing at Ron, who didn't make it to his room last night and passed out on the floor with a sheet and couch pillows.

The knocking continued.

Hermione rolled her eyes, flinging the blankets off of her, and kicking Ron on purpose as she made her way to his door.

The redhead didn't move and Hermione shivered from the cool morning.

Hermione flunged the door open, rubbing her face, and wondering who would even be knocking at such an early hour. The sun was shining, morning dew on the lawn, and the birds chirped loudly.

"Yes, can I help you _... Malfoy."_

"Granger," the tall man smirked, shoving his hands in his black pants.

His hair was styled perfect and he was dressed in clean Auror robes. Hermione could smell his fresh cologne along with his morning aftershave and it was driving her utterly mad. His smell was _intoxicating_ and it was far too early to think such foreign thoughts about the man in front of her.

"I'm chuffed to see you."

Draco glanced down, eyeing Hermione's overnight attire, smirking at her unkept curly hair. For that moment, he forgot what he even came there for.

Bloody Granger.

"I prefer you as a ferret myself," Hermione shot back, glaring, and crossing her arms over her chest. She felt overly subconscious for some reason.

"I'm sure, that way you could keep me as your pet. No worries, Granger, all you had to do was ask."

Hermione frowned, narrowing her chocolate brown eyes.

How the hell did Malfoy always managed to get under her skin? It didn't matter where they were or who they were around or what time during the day it was, he could always work every last nerve in her body.

"Moving on, I need the wanker twins. Mad Eye's bloody pissed and they're late."

Hermione's frown deepened as she moved to let Draco in the flat. How odd it was for Draco to be standing in Ron's living room. Things really had changed.

Hermione kicked Ron again as she watched Harry hurry around the flat to get ready. Trust the two of them to drink the night before work and not even set an alarm.

"Ron! Wake up! Malfoy's here. You're late," Hermione scolded the redhead, hands on her hips as he groaned and swatted her foot away.

Ron blinked, slowly waking up, standing up and walking to his room.

Hermione pulled her wand out of her sweatpants pocket, casting a quick cleaning charm on Harry and Ron. They could deal with the hangover themselves, Hermione decided.

"Thanks 'Mione," Harry muttered, putting on his shoes, and running a hand through his messy bed hair. He unsuccessfully tried to get it to lay down.

Hermione glanced at Draco, who was still standing at the door. He met her eyes ans refused to break eye contact. She could not stand the way his gaze pierced into her. Her heartbeat speed up, breaking the intense stare.

Ron footsteps were heard coming down the hall. Hermione hugged the two boys goodbye and wished them a good day as they left for the Auror department.

Once Harry and Ron were through the fireplace, Draco turned to Hermione.

"I'll be seeing you later, Granger."

Draco didn't wait for her reply before he left, leaving a bemused and tired Hermione.

She snorted unladylike, eyeing Ginny, who still hadn't moved or awakened, and made her way to the couch.

She grabbed the blankets from Harry's end of the couch and comfortably tucked herself back in. Ron didn't mind if she stayed over and it was far too early to be awake on her one off day.

Hermione smiled, wrapping herself up in the warm blankets. She would deal with Malfoy later, she decided before drifting back off to sleep.

.

.

.

Ron had finally kicked the girls out when he came home for lunch and found them sleeping. Hermione and Ginny returned home, looking ragged and tired.

Ginny slung her purse over the chair in the living room, mumbling under her breath about a quick shower. Hermione called Crookshanks out, following him into the kitchen as he lead the way to be fed.

The ginger haired cat held his nose up in the hair, disapproving of being left alone all night.

"I apologize, Crooks," Hermione smiled, pouring his food, and scratching the back of his ears as he purrs.

Hermione was thankful that Crookshanks adored Ginny too. The orange haired cat wasn't fond of many, but he had formed a close bond with Ginny when Hermione had left to search for Horcruxes with Harry and Ron.

Hermione heard Ginny turn off the shower, closing the bathroom door, and walking into her bedroom.

Hermione busied herself with making a quick breakfast for the two of them. By the time Ginny had finished drying off and changing, Hermione had a plate for two with eggs, bacon, and toast.

"Well aren't you wife of the century," Ginny joked, her red hair still wet from her shower, and taking a plate from Hermione with a thanks.

"I try," Hermione said dryly, her stomach growling as she sat across from Ginny at their small kitchen table. She hadn't realized how hungry she was, but she figured she hadn't ate anything but sandwichs last night. Plus, she still felt slightly hungover and exhausted from last night and she needed water and nutrients.

After a mouthful of eggs and bacon, Ginny couldn't contain herself anymore. They were finally away from Harry and Ron and she wanted was all the gossip on Draco and Hermione.

 _'And could anyone blame me?'_ Ginny thought.

"So, when are you going to come out and tell me you fancy Malfoy," Ginny said casually, watching Hermione choke on her water with a raised eyebrow.

" _Ginny!"_

"'Mione, it's me and you-"

"You and I."

"Right, _me and you,_ Hermione, we're not in Hogwarts, anyway, in our flat alone, enjoying a nice breakfast. There's no need to be dishonest."

"Merlin, Ginny! You've lost your mind. I can't even continue this conversation with you."

"Bollocks!"

"You can sit here all day and convince yourself there's something going on between Malfoy and I, but it's utter rubbish." With that, Hermione finished her food and placed her plate in the sink.

"I'm going to take a bath," Hermione said, walking out of the kitchen. She really did not feel like dealing with Ginny's prying nose right now.

"I have practice later this evening. I'm going to exercise before then. I'll see you when I come home and we can finish our lovely talk over a cup of tea!" Ginny called at Hermione's retreating form.

Hermione had to be _the_ most stubborn broad Ginny knew.

.

.

.

It was late into the evening and Hermione was growing restless. She had already finished the muggle mystery novel she put away for a free day and owled both her parents separately. She cleaned her and Ginny's flat, played with Crookshanks, and watched a little telly. Now, she was just bored.

Hermione kept checking the clock, wondering if Ginny's Quidditch practice was running late. Not that she would ever admit it aloud, but Hermione hated to be alone. Growing up as an only child had its perks, but it's negatives as well. Once she arrived at Hogwarts, she was used to sleeping and being around others constantly. Not that she ever did sleep alone, except at her parents, between Hogwarts, The Burrow, and on the run with Harry and Ron.

She did enjoy her quiet while studying or reading her books, but she liked the feel of a familar presence around her.

Hermione was so deep in her thoughts she didn't hear the owl swoop in and drop a letter on her table, hurrying back to where he came from.

It was that same unfriendly owl she had seen a few times... Draco's black owl.

She really wanted to deny her heart skipping a beat and the heat rushing to her cheeks as moved to open the letter.

 _Granger,_

 _I want to see you tonight. Write back soon._

 _Draco Malfoy_

Hermione snorted. It was rubbish; his handwriting was prettier than hers. She quickly wrote back a reply, giving Ginny's owl a treat and sending the pet to Draco.

She quickly changed the privacy wards to hers and Ginny's flat and changed out her lounge wear into muggle blue jeans and a nice green blouse.

As she was entering her living room, Draco arrived through the fireplace.

"Green looks well on you," Draco smirked and Hermione huffed.

"I'll just go change."

"No," Draco grabbed her wrist, stopping her, "I wasn't teasing. You look nice."

Hermione blushed, trying to hide her face from Draco. Their situation wasn't something she was trying to understand that night.

"Thanks," She finally said quietly. Not liking how out of character Draco made her.

Draco ran a hand through his blonde hair, now slightly unkept from the work day. He was still in his Auror ropes and the scent of his cologne drove Hermione crazy.

"Would like to take a walk? Ginny's nosy and should be home soon. There's a muggle park not far from here," Hermione suggested, grabbing her coat and purse.

Draco nodded and once again, he was surprising Hermione a day at a time. Maybe people really did change for the better.

The two walked outside, Hermione closing and locking the door behind her.

The moon hung full and low in the night sky. Stars glittered across the dark blue sky, the summer air cool, and dogs barked in a distance.

They walked in silence as they neared the empty park.

Draco smirked slightly watching a childish spark appear in Hermione's brown eyes.

"A bit old, aren't you, Granger?" He asked, raising an eyebrow as the brunette ignored him and headed towards the swing set.

The grass and sticks crunched under their foot steps. The sounds of crickets and wilderness surrounded them.

Hermione half ran towards the swings, grabbing a swing on the far right. She gripped the metal with a smile and started to pump her legs.

Draco couldn't help but admire her beauty. He never once look at Hermione twice at Hogwarts, but looking at her now, he was foolish not too. Blood purity be damned.

The moonlight gave Hermione a serene glow, her curly hair flowing behind her as she got higher and higher. She laughed, closing her eyes, and tilted her head back.

She was beautiful.

Draco pushed that thought to the back of his mind, taking a seat next to the brunette, grabbing the metal to steady himself.

"You're no fun," Hermione teased, laughing as she passed him.

"I'm not a child," Draco said simply as Hermione stuck her tongue out at him.

He had never seen this side of Granger and it was different. She intrigued him to the extent of driving Draco bloody mad. Each layer he peeled back on Hermione, the more he interest he had in her. He still wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing.

"No, just a prat who can't swing, I'm sure," Hermione said, smiling when Draco sneered.

Oh, he would show her. He was Draco Malfoy, of course he knew how to swing and he would do it even better than her.

Hermione giggled as Draco pumped his legs, trying to catch up to her height and speed.

It was an funny sight watching Draco, who was always so stoic and serious, attempt to swing beside Hermione.

Before she knew it, she was in a fit of giggles, swinging up and down while Draco barely could catch any speed.

"Find something funny, Granger?" Draco asked, albeit entertained himself.

Hermione couldn't contain herself anymore, she was in a full blown out laughing fit.

Draco stopped swinging, hopping off his swing, and moving to stand in front of Hermione. He unexpectedly stopped her swing by grabbing onto the metal chains. The swing squealed loudly. The rusty metal echoing in a distance.

Hermione stopped laughing, glancing up into Draco's grey eyes. The moonlight shined down on him, giving him a soft glow and making his hair shine.

Her breath caught in her throat. They were so close. He had leaned down, his face inches from hers. All Hermione had to do was lean forward slightly and the gap between them would be closed.

The cool breeze floated around them, twirling leaves and sand around their feet. The stars shined brightly down on them and had it been anyone else, Hermione would have considered the moment romantic.

But this was Draco Malfoy and she was Hermione Granger.

Just when Hermione thought Draco was going to lean down and kiss her, he lifted his head back up and strolled forward, his hands shoved deep into his pants pockets.

"Let's go, Granger. I'll walk you home. I have work tomorrow."

Hermione blinked, biting her lip, and shaking her head. As soon as she thought she had Draco all figured out, he would prove her wrong once again.

She hurried to catch up with his long strides.

Draco Malfoy was a closed book and it bothered Hermione how willing she was to open him up and indulge in his pages.


	5. Chapter 5

The first night, a warm summer night on Thursday, Hermione didn't think anything out of the ordinary.

It was a little after three thirty in the morning, Hermione and Crookshanks were both sound asleep, snuggled up in Hermione's comfortable bed, dreaming of books and cat food.

 _BOOM!_

Hermione sat up quickly, her brain in overdrive as she reached for her wand on her nightstand.

She threw back the covers, muttering an apology to Crookshanks who glared and meowed at her for waking him up.

Not even bothering to put pants on, Hermione tiptoed into the hall, her eyes alert and wand drawn.

" _AH!"_

Before Hermione could react, her sock covered foot slipped onto the hardwood floor, sending her sliding down the hall.

It's a funny sight.

Hermione Granger, war herione and smartest witch of the century, in nothing but an oversized Holyhead Harpies t-shirt, hair curly and wild like a lions mane, flailing her arms, sliding down the hallway in mismatched green and blue socks, in the middle of the night.

Even Crookshanks had came off the bed and poked his head out of Hermione's room to see what was going on.

As Hermione tried to catch her balance, she knocked into someone, sending them both to the floor.

"Hermione, if you wanted to shag me, all you had to do was say so," Ginny teased as Hermione rolled her eyes on top of her.

Crookshanks licked his paw, eyeing the two of them with annoyance before turning up his nose and returning back to bed.

"Oh, bugger off," Hermione said, standing up and offering a hand to help Ginny.

"Was that you?" Hermione asked curiously, raising an eyebrow, watching Ginny stand. "What are you doing out so late? Don't you have a match tomorrow?"

Ginny dusted nonexistent lint off her muggle blue jeans, "I do. And yeah, I couldn't sleep and I didn't want to bother you."

Having known the redhead as long as had, Hermione didn't believe a word she said.

"Right," Hermione nodded, patting her redheaded bestfriend on the shoulder, walking back to her room.

"I'll see you at your game tomorrow. Goodnight!" She called over her shoulder.

"Goodnight 'Mione."

.

.

.

The second night was a little odd. Maybe a coincidence, but Hermione was too smart for coincidences.

It had been a long day for Hermione and Ginny.

Hermione had an agonizing busy day at St Mungos. It had been patient after patient since she had came in the morning. She knew it was Friday, but still, she even had to miss lunch because they were understaffed on Healers that weekend as well. Her work day had finally ended right on time for Ginny's Quidditch match that evening.

Hermione had even dressed the part, wearing blue muggle jeans, a Holyhead Harpies jersey from Ginny's closet, gold sandals, and painted her face dark green and gold. Even though she was a workaholic, she was so happy to be off work after the stressful day, she even wore a matching dark green ribbon in her curly hair for support and team spirit.

The match had been fun as well. Harry and Ron weren't able to make it, but Lavender had came as well as Luna and Neville. Even Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini were in the same VIP section.

Hermione had been a bit overwhelmed and bemused at first because she hadn't seen Draco since that night they had shared at the park.

She had recovered quickly though, exchanging pleasantries and small talk as did the other former Gryffindors and Ravenclaw. All in all, it had been a nice evening with friends she hadn't seen in awhile and the game had been exciting to watch, even if Hermione would have preferred reading to a Quidditch match.

Ginny's team won against the Caerphilly Catapults, catching the snitch two hours later.

After the game, everyone said their goodbyes and Ginny and Hermione went for a quick dinner to celebrate before returning home and calling it a night. Hermione had to work in the morning and Ginny said she was feeling more tired and sore than usual.

Once again, it was around three in the morning, Hermione was awakened to a loud _Pop!_ this time.

Groaning, she eyed Crookshanks sleeping form, no need to wake his grouchy arse up, and headed into the hallway.

She rolled her eyes at Ginny, who was currently raiding the fridge. She was eating a pickle in one hand and grabbing strawberries in the other.

" _Hermione!"_ Ginny screamed once she turned around, jumping, and dropping her pickle to the floor.

Hermione ignored her, eyeing her sleepily, placing a hand on her hip.

She wasn't even going to bother to question Ginny's bizarre eating habits. The witch was odd sometimes.

Ginny was dressed in muggle blue jeans, boots, and a nice blouse.

"Where have you been?" Hermione asked slyly, feeling much like Ginny did last week when she was pestering Hermione about Draco.

Ginny laughed, a habit she did when she was nervous. "I went for a walk to get some fresh air. I didn't mean to wake you again."

Hermione pursed her lips, snatching a strawberry from the open container in Ginny's hand.

"Sure," She said, biting into her strawberry. "I believe you, Ginny. Definitely."

Ginny laughed nervously again, "As you should!"

"Right. Well," Hermione grabbed a few more strawberries, heading back to her room. She was too tired to bother Ginny tonight. After all, _some_ people did have to get a good nights rest for work in the morning.

"When you're ready to tell me who you're sneaking around in the middle of night like a schoolgirl for... I'll be here!"

Ginny's left eyebrow twitched.

Damn Hermione.

.

.

.

The third night, Ginny confessed.

As Hermione _knew_ she would.

It was around two thirty in the morning on Sunday. Hermione was off the same day so she made sure to go to bed early to spend the day doing something productive.

Crookshanks had opted to sleep in his cat bed on Hermione's floor that night. He _refused_ to be awakened again that night over two troublesome women. A cat needed his beauty sleep.

Hermione was sound asleep until she felt two athletic arms wrap around her. The pleasant scent of vanilla filling her nostrils.

Her brown eyes snapped open.

 _"Ginny!_ "

But then her face soften. It wasn't often Ginny crawled into bed with her to sleep, but when she did, it was because of nightmares of Tom Riddle and the diary plus the War and Voldemort. Everyone had their own nightmares.

Hermione still had her night terrors every so often.

"Did you have a bad dream?" Hermione asked, turning over and allowing Ginny room to climb in next to her.

She remembered the first night in Ginny's flat. Back then, it had been only Ginny's. It was the first time her and Ron had officially called it quits and with nowhere to go in the middle of the night - She didn't want to bother Harry, who still had his own demons he was dealing with - she went to Ginny's.

 _Ginny_ _didn't_ _even_ _question_ _her_ _when_ _she_ _popped_ _into_ _her living room. Ginny - who had been watching late night muggle television, eating popcorn and steak tips - raised a red eyebrow and said, "Well, blimey, 'Mione. You look extra stiff tonight._ _You got a broom wedged up your arse?"_

 _Hermione laughed, appreciating Ginny's crude humor and wiped a few stray tears from her eyes. She dropped her bag onto the floor, finally allowing the exhaustion to show on her face._

 _She was_ so _sick and tired of arguing and crying and feeling guilty like_ _everything was her fault._

 _"I need somewhere to crash. May I stay here?"_

 _"May I?"_ _Ginny snorted, throwing the remote on the couch as she stood up._

 _Typical Hermione._

 _"Of course you can, you crazy witch. You don't even have to ask," Ginny said, walking into her kitchen as Hermione followed._

 _Ginny made the two late night snacks consisting of ice cream, chips, and pumpkin juice. They stayed up late watching scary muggle movies - Ginny never asking the reason why Hermione came to stay over - and finally retired to bed in the early hours of the morning._

 _Hermione had been fine at first, staying in the room that would eventually be hers, but it had been so long since she had went to sleep by herself, her brain didn't know how to react._

 _She woke up, sitting up quickly, frightened and drenched in_ _cold sweat._

 _She had a night terror of Bellatrix and the torture and screams and pain and horror._

 _She looked down her arm, the word Mudblood still carved into her tan flesh, only now healed and scarred. It was something_ _that would haunt her forever._

 _It had been so long since she had a nightmare, tucked away in Ron's embrace since the War, she felt utterly lost in that moment._

 _She quickly grabbed her pillow and tip toed into Ginny's room across the hall. She pushed the slightly cracked door open some more, allowing herself to squeeze through. She quietly crawled into Ginny's bed, brushing Ginny's legs with her cold toes._

 _"Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed sleepily, "Your toes are colder than Voldemort's wanker!"_

 _Hermione rolled her eyes, adjusting her pillow, and finding a comfortable spot on Ginny's bed._

 _"You're ridiculous, Ginny."_

"No," Ginny said quietly, hugging Hermione's back to her, bringing the older witch back to the present.

Her bestfriend was warm and soft and the comfort she needed.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked softly, concerned at Ginny's out of character tone.

"I'm fine," Ginny said, thankful of Hermione's night light. She hated the dark.

"Men are all the same, 'Mione. Why do I even try?"

"Because someone out there is going to love you even more than I do!" Hermione laughed, kicking Ginny's foot with hers.

"I thought he was different. It _felt_ different, 'Mione."

Hermione didn't say anything, she merely turned over, hugging her redhead bestfriend.

.

.

.

The same night around three forty-five in the morning at the Malfoy Manor, three overly plastered boys were talking amongst themselves.

"I'm telling you," Theodore Nott said, chugging back Firewhiskey from the bottle before he continued, "You're a right prat. The female Weasley is shaggable, I'll have to entertain her myself."

Draco smirked, not replying as he sipped his whiskey on ice.

Blaise Zabini narrowed his hazel eyes, grabbing a couch pillow and throwing it at Theo's face.

Blaise and Theo had been Draco's friends since childhoood. For better or worse, they had always stuck by each other's side. They had been raised with the same Pureblood teachings and values. Draco and Theo father's were both former Death Eaters and Blaise and Draco's mother had always got along well.

Neither of the three would ever admit it, but their mutual horrors of life brought them closer together. While the Golden Trio and the rest of the Hogwarts students had seen their fair share of death and destruction, Draco, Theo, and Blaise were introduced to the dark side of life at an early age.

The rise of Voldemort had turned families against each other, had turned them so dark and ignorant to common sense. The followers of the Dark Lord so blindly following Voldemort they had no concern for the safety and well-being of their families.

Draco had been the first one to recieve the Dark Mark. He was the first of the younger generation of Death Eaters to be sent out on a mission for Voldemort - to kill Albus Dumbledore. Draco had been the example for the younger Death Eaters.

During that time, Draco's sixth year at Hogwarts, he isolated himself so far from his minions Crabbe and Goyle and his friends Blaise, Theo, and Pansy so they couldn't see him break, couldn't see how _terrified_ and scared and guilty he had been for most of that year. And it had only made matters worse, because Theo had taken the Dark Mark during Christmas break of their sixth year. The guilt and shame never went away for Draco. If he had just _told_ Theo to run, run so fucking far away, he might have had a chance. Blaise had been lucky enough to never recieve the Dark Mark, his mother and husband at the time, were mutual during the reign of Voldemort.

After the War, Blaise and Theo finished their schooling at Hogwarts. Blaise finding his calling as a Prosecutor for the Ministry and Theo went traveling around the world. He claimed he had more than enough money to not work and he was tired of seeing the same shit after eighteen years. Theo had recently returned home six months ago.

"I'll kick your arse into your past life, Nott."

Theo, not one to back down from a challenge, "Oy, is that a threat, Zabini? Draco, we got a lively one!"

Draco rolled his eyes. Those two were drunk off their arses.

Draco and Theo had been drinking since earlier that evening. Draco had the day off tomorrow and his parents had taken a vacation to their France home for the summer, so he had the Malfoy Manor to himself. Blaise didn't join the duo until about an hour ago, but it didn't take him long to catch up to the two.

Before Draco could blink, Blaise had lunged himself at Theo, making the dark haired boy's chair fall backwards with Theo in the expensive chair. Once they hit the floor with a loud thud, Theo grabbed Blaise, rolling the two on Draco's hardwood floors.

"You fuckin' wanker, Nott, I'll cut your dick off and shove it down your throat before you even _think_ about coming near Ginny."

"Ginny, now, is it, not Weasley? And here I thought, you didn't _care!"_

"You'll care when my foot gets stuck up your arse."

"I might just like that, Zabini!"

Before the two could continue, Draco seperated the two with force with his wand, throwing them back on opposite ends of the room.

"Will you two _witches_ shut the fuck up. You're giving me a headache."

Blaise and Theo exchanged looks.

"Poor Malfoy, you know his pretty little head can't handle a headache."

"I know, Nott. We wouldn't want anything to inconvenience our Draco. He's too delicate."

Draco threw a bottle of Firewhiskey at them, smirking, and enjoying the sound of glass shattering against the floor, shards of glass bouncing in odd directions across the room as the whiskey poured out onto the floor. It barely missed the two by an inch.

"Oy, you crazy tit! I was gonna drink that!"

"Shut the fuck up, Theo."

"Why don't _you_ shut up, Blaise."

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose, wishing he hadn't thrown his bottle of Firewhiskey now. If anything, Blaise and Theo were the reason for his drinking.

 _Idiots._

.

.

.

The next day, Hermione woke up later than usual. Blinking tiredly, she rose and stretched her body, noticing Ginny and Crookshanks were gone from her room.

She quickly grabbed some clothes out of her closet, walking out of her room and into the bathroom for her daily shower, and then she got dressed for the day.

Stepping out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her hair, Hermione looked around curiously for Ginny. There was no sight of the redhead anywhere.

Pulling the towel out of her hair, she hung it across the dining room chair before walking over to the pile of mail on the counter.

There was her weekly letter from her parents, one from Molly Weasley - inviting her over for dinner later that week - a short letter from Harry asking her to join lunch with him and Ron tomorrow, and a letter from Malfoy.

Hermione pretended her heart didn't speed up and she opened the letter with a bemused expression on her face.

' _What could Malfoy possibly want today?'_ She thought.

 _Granger,_

 _It's hot._

 _Come over for a swim._

 _No worries, mother and father are vacationing in France. I'm the only one at the Manor._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Draco Malfoy_

Hermione bit her lip, contemplating her reply. She would've considered it extremely odd two weeks ago, but now, it was simply confusing.

The interest Draco had taken in her had definitely caught her by surprise and as much as she wanted to avoid him, she couldn't help but feel drawn to him.

Finally deciding she didn't have any other plans for the day, she hurriedly wrote back a reply - still no sign of Ginny - and walked back to her room to gather her belongings together for the day.

In the very back of her thoughts, she briefly wondered what Ron and Harry would say about her new found... _friendship?_ Hermione wasn't sure what to call her relationship with Draco, but nonetheless, she still wasn't prepared for her male bestfriends opinions. Especially since she didn't know herself how she felt about Draco. At first, he had been annoying and pestering to her, but now, she was simply excited about spending the day with the former Slytherin and that was enough reason for her today.

Hermione changed into her red two piece swimsuit, underneath her red t-shirt and muggle blue jeans shorts. She grabbed her white sandals from the floor of her closet, quickly sliding them on her feet as she grabbed her small tote - filled with a sheet, towels and sunscreen - and headed down the hallway.

Before stepping into the fireplace, Hermione fixed her and Draco a small lunch. Grabbing her picnic basket out of the cabinet, she made bacon turkey sandwiches with potato chips and pumpkin juice on the side.

Hermione hurriedly stepped into the fireplace, subconsciously adjusting her outfit and called out Malfoy Manor before she decided to change her mind.

.

.

.

Hermione arrived in the Malfoy Manor to a smirking Malfoy. She dusted herself off from the floo power and greeted him with a small smile.

His grey eyes hypnotized her every time.

"I'm here. You're not going to try to lock me up in the dungeons, are you?" She teased, allowing Draco to take her tote and picnic basket.

Honestly, her stomach was in knots with unease. The last time she had been inside the Malfoy Manor she had been tortured.

No mattered how hard she tried, she could never fully get rid of those memories. They were always lingering, taunting her in the deep depths of her mind and being in the Malfoy Manor had brought the feelings to surface.

 _"You filthy, dirty, disgusting mudblood!"_

 _"Crucio!"_

 _Mudblood. Mudblood. Mudblood._

Draco, not saying anything but sensing her discomfort, quickly led Hermione through the Manor in slightly awkward silence and into the back yard.

"Cook for me, did you, Granger?" Draco smirked, breaking the silence, and holding up the picnic basket as they walked through his mother's garden.

Hermione, staring in awe at the variety of Muggle and Magical flowers - colors of pink, purple, orange, blue, and yellow - shook her head with a smile.

"No, I made bacon turkey sandwiches," She said, smiling shyly, her eyes still wandering around the beautiful environment.

Once the two reached their destination, Draco sat Hermione's belongings down as Hermione grinned at the lake.

"Malfoy, it's _beautiful_!" Hermione exclaimed, staring at eight acres of sparkling blue water.

It was a hot summer day on a Sunday. The weather was in the mid eighties, the cerulean blue sky cloudless and full of life. The sun hung high in the sky, rays of sunshine radiating down on the lake, illuminating crystals.

"I knew you would appreciate the beauty," Draco said, smirking, pleased with himself as he watched Hermione pull out a white bed sheet from her bag.

He would never tell Hermione, but he had always admired her fascination with animals and magical creatures and her ability to see the beauty in things so ugly and broken.

If anyone could appreciate the beautiful work of nature in front of the two, Draco knew it would be Hermione.

Not that he would ever admit it to himself, but Draco sincerely enjoyed Hermione's company.

It didn't help that she causes him to act out of character and on sheer impulse to seek her out. She would randomly cross his thoughts during the day and he _had_ to see her person to make the intrusive thoughts go away. At least, that's what he told himself each time he had owled Hermione.

She began to spread the sheet on top of the bright green grass before sitting down her tote and picnic basket on top of the sheet.

Before Hermione could blink, Draco was stripping off his button up shirt and slacks. He wore black swim trucks underneath, his blonde hair unstyled and swaying in the summer breeze as the sun shined down on his pale skin.

Hermione followed him, tugging off her t-shirt, shorts, and shoes. She folded her clothes up neatly, sitting them on top of her sheet with her sandals beside them.

Draco tried not to stare at Hermione in her red two piece bathing suit. Hermione had always been rather thin, but now, as a grown women, she was fuller and curvy. Her shapely tan legs stretched for days, her curly brown hair swaying in the wind as Draco caught a scent of her intoxicating strawberry shampoo.

"You need sunscreen," Hermione said smartly, rolling her eyes as Draco scoffed at her suggestion.

Ahead of Draco's protest, Hermione was pulling out her sunscreen from her bag and motioning for Draco to stand in front of her.

The soft grass crunched beneath their bare feet as Hermione moved them, trying to shield their eyes away from the sun.

She squeezed a good amount of sunscreen into her palm, rubbing her hands together before applying the suncreen lotion onto Draco's shoulders.

She massaged the sun protection down his back before turning him around herself. Draco sneered at the gesture, but knew better than to say anything.

Hermione squeezed another generous amount out of the bottle, rubbing it on Draco's front side of his shoulders to his muscular arms and up and down his toned chest.

The action was so _sensual._

Hermione blushed, trying to ignore Draco's smirk and eyes as the sun beamed down on them.

It didn't help the situation that the day was so _hot_ already.

Hermione finished up, wiping sunscreen on Draco's cheeks, enjoying how his smirk turned into a scowl.

Before she had time to question and analyze the situation, Draco tore away from her quickly, sprinting onto the freshly painted wooden pier, jumping into the crystal blue lake, the peaceful water shifting with a loud splash.

Hermione laughed, shaking her head, walking out onto the pier herself, her feet thumping along the wood.

She couldn't help but stare at the lake. She appreciated nature so much and it was so peaceful and pretty that Sunday afternoon.

Looking around for Draco in the water, she covered her eyes with her hand, squinting against the sun.

Too busy searching for Draco, she barely heard the sound of wet running feet behind her. Not reacting fast enough, a pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist, throwing the both of them into the water.

Hermione came up for air, sputtering and gasping.

"Malfoy!" Hermione exclaimed once she resurfaced, punching him in the arm.

"Ow, Granger! I see your right hook has only gotten stronger," Draco muttered, rubbing his arm, which was now turning a bright red.

"You deserve it," Hermione said, feeling childish as she stuck her tongue out at him.

As soon as Draco turned around, Hermione hopped onto his muscular back, ducking his head under the cool lake water.

She laughed, only allowing the act for a few seconds, before swimming away as fast as she could.

Draco, not one to be shown up, smirked, swimming after Hermione with speed.

He had never acted like this with another women. He was used to one night stands and superficial flings. Draco had never pursued a women before much less spend his free time with one. Hermione came into his life that day at St Mungos and he was smitten, in his own ways. Of course, he would deny it to himself, but Hermione was different. Even more so than when they were attending Hogwarts together. Draco was out of his element, but he couldn't find it in himself to stop.

"Watch yourself, Granger. We wouldn't want anyone to get hurt," Draco said, finally catching up to Hermione in the water.

The brunette witch squealed as he picked her up by her waist, the water from her body dripping onto him as he lifted her up above his head and tossed her forward into the water.

Hermione hit the lake water with a loud splash, water shooting up into the air.

Her face and screams had Draco _laughing._

Really laughing.

Not a sarcastic or condescending laugh, but a real, throaty, _sincere_ laugh.

As Hermione came up for air, her hair a wet curly mess and brown eyes sparkling, she couldn't help but laugh with Draco.

She had never heard his laugh before. It was a beautiful melody.

Strong and deep and _real._

Draco's laugh made Hermione's heart happy.

From the outside looking in, they both were so blissfully unaware of anything but each other.

Hermione, who was a few feet in front of Draco, had her dark curly hair wet and sticking to her face and shoulders. Her chocolate brown eyes sparkling with warmth as she laughed. The afternoon sun shined down on her tan skin, her freckles standing out on her arms and shoulders.

Draco, who was now starting to swim towards Hermione, had been laughing without a care in the world. His rarely seen dimples showing as Hermione brought out a side of him that was practically nonexistent to others. His usually perfect blonde hair wet and messy as his grey eyes stood out in the sunlight.

A few inches before Draco could reach her, Hermione swam up to him, throwing her wet arms around his neck.

"I don't think so," she teased, "You're not about to sneak up on me. I'm too clever for that."

Draco scoffed, his eyes staring into Hermione's.

It felt like fire and electricity between them.

"Is that why you have a death grip around my neck, Granger?"

"Of course. That way I have you right where I want you."

As soon as the words came out of Hermione's mouth, she blushed. She hadn't meant it in a sexual way, but it still sounded awful.

Draco's face was a stare of indifference and Hermione felt like a bundle of nerves. Her heart was pounding out of her chest and her head felt light headed and dizzy.

The water swoshed and sloshed around the two as Hermione's grip soften around Draco's neck and Draco moved the two slowly through the water.

The sun was starting to dwindle down some. It was still warm, but not as hot as earlier. The water was cool and calm and the sounds of the water, birds, and nature were soothing to Hermione's ear.

As Draco continued to move the two through the water, he couldn't help but think how small they must look in the middle of the lake.

Draco stopped, his gaze on Hermione's left arm.

Hermione furrowed her brows, following his eyes to her arm.

The word Mudblood stood pink and scarred against her wet tan skin. It was a word she would carry with her for the rest of her life.

She tried to speak, but Draco cut her off, grabbing her arm.

"We're not so different, you and I," Draco said, driplets of water sliding down his face from his wet hair, his grey eyes never breaking eye contact with Hermione.

Draco held up his own arm to Hermione's.

 _The_ _Dark Mark._

 _Mudblood._

"Our marks do not define us," Draco said, his eyes piercing into Hermione's.

The memories of Hermione being tortured in his childhood home were as vivid and fresh as the night it happened.

He only wished he could've done more... for Hermione, for himself and his family.

Hermione was at loss for words. She had never seen this side of Draco and each moment they spent together, the more he surprised her and intrigued her. She wanted so desperately to _not_ like Draco. Yet at the same time, she slowly but surely found herself wanting more of his presence, wanting to hear more of Draco's voice and _laugh_ \- she would do anything to hear the beautiful sound again, wanting more letters from him to wake up to every morning. Hermione wanted more of _everything_ that included Draco Malfoy.

Hermione decided she was starting to lose her mind. So she did what she did best when she was with Draco and decided to _not_ think.

Instead of speaking, she threw her arms back around Draco's neck and wrapped her legs around his waist, telling him to start swimming again so she could see more of the gorgeous lake.

Hermione would never admit it, but she had never smiled so much in her life.


	6. Chapter 6

" _Ginny!"_ Blaise exclaimed desperately, picking up another pebble off the ground to throw at her bedroom window.

He was _eighty_ percent positive he was at the right flat.

And only twenty percent positive this wasn't Hermione's window.

It was a humid Sunday night in the summer. The dark blue sky cloudless as the stars glittered brightly across the night sky. The fresh smell of cut grass hung in the air as a cool breeze swept by.

"Ginny!" He called again, scowling when the pebbles weren't working. Blaise huffed, throwing his handful of pebbles down and impatiently strolled over to her - hopefully - bedroom window.

Blaise scoffed at himself. He could have been knocking this entire time.

A soft tap against the window several times and he finally heard the glass open softly.

 _"Blaise!_ " Ginny hissed, poking her red head out the window, her hazel eyes flashing with anger.

"What _are_ you _doing?!"_

Blaise smirked, rubbing the back of his neck. He was nervous on the inside, but she didn't need to know that.

"What does it _look_ like Ginny? I'm here to... _apologize."_ He spat the last word, foreign and nasty to his tongue. He was Blaise Zabini, for Salazar sake. He didn't say sorry.

For Ginny Weasley, he did.

Ginny was not amused.

"You came to apologize - _two_ days later - at four in the morning... at my bloody window?!"

Blaise tried not to laugh, but it was a funny sight.

Ginny half hung out her window in her Holyhead Harpies t-shirt and pajama bottoms, her red hair messy, and hazel eyes glaring daggers as she yelled at him.

"Yes," Blaise nodded, allowing the redhead to shout a string of curse words directed towards him.

"Ginny," He started, struggling to find the right words to say.

"I'm sorry, okay? I messed up and I regret it. I didn't mean what I said... you're so much more than a fling."

Ginny bit the inside of her cheek, looking away from the man in front of her.

She wanted so badly _not_ to be hurt again. She didn't want to give her all to someone just for them to take it back when they chose to do so. She didn't want to even _feel_ like this about another person after Harry, but she couldn't help herself. Everything about Blaise called out to her, pulling her in day by day.

Ginny didn't exactly know when her relationship with Blaise had started up. The two lovers had a one night stand awhile ago after one of her Quidditch matches. They had a good time and parted ways; not seeing each other again until around a month ago.

Blaise had once again attended one of her Quidditch matches and sought her out after the match had ended. After that, it had been an entire month of short conversations, late night sex, and sneaking around. Neither of the two had disclosed their relationship to anyone, not even the friends closest to them. There was something so sexy and dirty about having a secret lover no one knew about.

Ginny had broken the naughty routine two nights ago when she asked Blaise if they could talk after sex. When she broke the ice and came out and told him she wanted something serious and _real_. She didn't care if they came out together in public or friends and family, but she wanted a genuine relationship with him. Over the weeks, Ginny had developed real feelings for Blaise. He was smart, handsome, sarcastic, and clever. Blaise kept her on her toes and didn't let her run him over like she did so many men in her past. She wanted him to be _hers_ officially.

And he said no. More so, yelled it - red in the face and mumbling incoherently.

Ginny had _Apparated_ faster than she ever had in her life after his reaction, feeling absolutely _humiliated._

"Ginny? Are you there?" Blaise waved his wand in front her face.

Ginny narrowed her hazel eyes trying to avoid contact with Blaise's hazel eyes.

His eyes were so much more beautiful than hers. Blaise's eyes had more gold and bronze than brown intertwining with hues of dark green. She could be hypnotized by Blaise's eyes.

"Blaise, save your piss poor rubbish for some other unlucky witch and go shove your broom up your arse. Bloody hell, I'll even lend you mine."

"Ginny wait - "

" _No_ , Zabini. Remember? Not so nice hearing it, is it?" Ginny spat, the tips of her ears turning Weasley red.

She was so sodding angry.

She had put herself out there only to be rejected and Ginny had never been able to handle rejection, especially by people she cared about.

"I'm a stupid git, Ginny," Blaise confessed, running his tan hand through his dark curly hair, his eyes pleading with her.

"I never said you weren't stupid," Ginny shot back smartly, her back starting to ache the longer she hung out her bedroom window.

Merlin, the two of them had to look absolutely ridiculous.

Blaise's eyes twinkled with amusement.

"Ginny," he breathe, closing the large gap between them, grabbing her pale face in his large tan hands.

The heat and chemistry flared between the two, Blaise's fingertips tingling from the contact.

"You," Blaise paused, so unsure of himself and cautious of his foriegn feelings.

"Ginny, you make me want to rewind a memory. You make me happy." He laughed at how ridiculous he sounded, but he had never been more honest.

The moonlight shined brightly down on the two and Blaise was so close he could see the dust of freckles dancing across Ginny's face and nose.

Blaise was in _love_ with Ginny's freckles. After sex, he would spend hours tracing and connecting the freckles across her body. She had so, so _many_ and each one was different. Her body told a story and Blaise had wanted to read every word.

Ginny blushed at his confession, silently cursing him for not saying all the right things when she tried to talked to him two nights ago about their relationship.

Ginny wanted so desperately to throw all common sense and knowledge to the wind and kiss the former Slytherin passionately in front of her, but she couldn't allow herself to be heartbroken again. She _refused_. She had put herself out there once and Blaise had shut her down. That was all she needed to know.

"Leave me alone, Zabini." Ginny clenched her jaw, rolled her eyes, and ducked her body back into the window.

"No, wait, _Ginny!"_

Ginny shut the window in his beautiful face loudly and angrily.

.

.

.

Hermione had met up with Harry and Ron for a late lunch. She had been busy at St Mungos - typical Monday morning craziness. Harry had said they could catch up on paperwork while they waited for her, much to Ron's discomfort, who's stomach had been protesting loudly.

The three of them could never decide where to eat while together - Harry and Hermione bickering like siblings before Ron decided for all three of them on Muggle pizza. Harry and Hermione had introduced Ron a few years ago and he fell in love.

The trio were seated in a booth tucked away in the far back of the pizza restaurant sharing a large pepperoni pizza with extra cheese and enjoying each other's company.

The boys were dressed in black slacks and white button shirts, rolled up to the elbows on both of them. Ron had discarded his tie earlier that day and Harry wore his tie loose around his neck. Hermione was dressed in her Healer outfit, pleased to have let her hair down out the tight bun on her head that was known to give the witch painful headaches throughout the work day.

Ron was munching on one slice of pizza with another ready to go in his hand. Hermione slowly ate her slice of pizza as she wrote one of her patient reports on a napkin. Harry chewed thoughtfully beside Hermione, finally sighing and allowing himself to speak before he lost his famous Gryffindor courage.

"I should probably tell you guys something before it gets out into the public and gossip magazines."

Hermione stopped writing, setting her pizza down on her plate. Ron briefly stopped eating before chewing again and nodding for Harry to continue.

"Well," Harry ran his hand nervously through his dark hair, his green eyes staring at the wall behind Ron. "I've started dating Pansy Parkinson."

Ron had the decency to dropped _one_ of his pizzas in pure shock and Hermione could only raise an eyebrow curiously.

"When did this start, Harry?" Hermione asked, speaking for her and Ron as she leaned over the table to close Ron's open jaw. He had continued to stare at Harry like he had grown another head.

Harry scratched the back of his neck, picking a pepperoni off his pizza, popping it into his mouth before continuing.

"Recent... very recently. We had bumped into each other - quite literally - about a week ago and, well, I've seen Pansy every day since," Harry smiled happily, his eyes beaming since the mention of Pansy's name.

Hermione smiled, seeing the sincere happiness on Harry's face. While she had her own opinions and thoughts about Pansy, it would do no good to voice them to Harry. He was someone who could forgive anyone and would _find_ the good in anyone. Harry obviously had found something nice in Pansy because he couldn't stop smiling since he spoke of her and that was more than enough for Hermione. Old childhood rivalries and bullies be damned.

"I'm happy for you, Harry," Hermione said honestly, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Thank you, 'Mione. I really wanted to tell you and Ron before anyone else knew. We're not keeping our relationship a secret, so it's bound to come out and I didn't want to leave you two in the dark."

Ron cleared his throat, taking a sip of his soda before saying, "If that's what gets your wanker up at night, Harry."

"Ronald!" Hermione reached over and smacked her redhead male bestfriend in the arm.

"Ow, Hermione!"

"Thanks Ron," Harry smiled, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

He was pleased to have his bestfriends blessings. Hermione and Ron meant the world to Harry. They were his _family._ Their opinion mattered more than anyone else and he couldn't bare to think if they didn't accept his new relationship... His first relationship since Ginny.

Pansy had taken Harry by surprise, but he was enjoying every second he had with her. They were an odd pair, but it worked when it was just the two of them late at night cuddled up in each other's embrace.

The trio continued eating their lunch, laughing, and reminiscing their horrifying but exhilarating Hogwarts days.

As the three finished up their meal, Hermione cleaning up after the three, Harry broke the comfortable silence.

"I really wanted to have a dinner with you guys and Pansy, so you all can talk. I'm going to ask Malfoy as well."

Hermione ears perked up at the sound of Draco's name. She hadn't seen the pale haired wizard since Sunday evening. They had spent all day in that gorgeous lake on the Malfoy's property. They were both sunkissed and exhausted as the sun started to set and finally bid each other good night. Hermione and Draco had work in early in the morning, but it didn't stop Hermione from missing his company as soon as she left.

Ron rolled his blue eyes playfully, "I suppose, Harry. Although I rather spend the evening doing Auror reports than eating dinner with Malfoy and ... _Pansy."_

Hermione nudged him with her elbow. "We'd love too, Harry. Just pick a night and we'll be there."

The smile on Harry's face made everything worthwhile to Hermione.

"That's bloody wicked, 'Mione. I'll let you know later this week."

The trio continued small talk for a few more minutes before hugging each other, and exchanging goodbyes with Hermione, teasing her about not working too hard and promising to see her soon.

.

.

.

The rest of the day ended smoothly for Hermione and for that she was grateful. She was extremely exhausted and worn down for some reason. She felt light headed and her mind was cluttered with bothersome thoughts.

Hermione arrived home a little past six, expecting to see Ginny. She didn't and she assumed her Quidditch practice was running late tonight.

She sighed tiredly, shrugging off her coat and purse, draping them across her living room chair.

Hermione greeted Crookshanks as she walked into the kitchen towards the pantry, pulling out cat food as she poured the orange haired feline his dinner. He purred happily and thanked her by rubbing up against her leg before eating.

Hermione debated ordering takeout or cooking dinner and saving leftovers for Ginny later. She was knackered, but her stomach was growling in pain. She hadn't ate since lunch with Ron and Harry, but she also didn't feel like eating alone.

The silence in the flat was almost _too_ loud. Hermione couldn't stand it. Using her wand, she turned on the Muggle radio that sat on top of the kitchen counter and hummed along as American pop music filled the living space.

She quickly changed out of her Healer outfit into black leggings and an old Gryffindor seeker jersey that belonged to Harry.

Hermione walked back into the kitchen, determined to make something delicious to stop her annoying hunger pains. She opened the freezer, grabbing frozen chicken as she placed it on the counter. She reached into her pantry to grab potatoes and green vegetables. She magically defrosted the chicken, putting the oven on an acceptable heat.

She prepped the chicken and prepared it to go in the oven as soon it was preheated. She magically cut the potatoes and had them mashed with her magic. Hearing the oven go off, she placed the chicken in the oven, waiting thirty minutes before finishing up the sides for her dinner.

Hermione walked into the living room, trying to busy herself with tidying up. She had been using making dinner and listening to music to distract her from her pestering thoughts, but now they were coming back with full force.

Her thoughts were about _Malfoy_. And it was becoming absolutely irritating. All day his face and smirk and _laugh_ had been flashing in and out of her mind. She didn't understand her feelings and it was driving her bloody mad.

Her life had been so much easier without Draco Malfoy.

Bloody hell, was her life simplier when she kept him at arms length. She could deal with Malfoy when _she_ was in control. She could understand her emotions of annoyance, anger, and hostility towards the former Slytherin. Hermione _didn't_ understand her heart skipping a beat and her skin burning hot because of his touch. She didn't understand any of these new emotions she was experiencing with Draco and she hated them. Hermione liked knowing all the facts and information about something and she didn't know anything about her situation with Draco anymore.

A black owl stopped her thoughts, dropping a letter in her lap before flying away quickly.

Speaking of the Slytherin.

Hermione bit her lip, slightly enjoying the fact she never had to owl Draco first. He always did so without a second thought.

She opened the letter with nervous fingers, curious as to what Draco had to say to her today.

 _Granger,_

 _The Manor is quite boring by my lonesome._

 _Are you working tonight?_

 _Sincerely,_

 _Draco Malfoy_

What game was he playing? Hermione couldn't help but wonder as she sat the letter down on her coffee table.

The Draco she knew would have never gave her a second glance. She knew people could change as they grew older and matured, but could they really change that much? Draco had so much hatred and dark in his heart. How could he possibly throw all that aside for her?

The memory of the two in the lake came forward in her mind.

 _The Dark Mark._

 _Mudblood._

 _"Our marks do not define us."_

Maybe he had changed for the better and she was being paranoid. This hadn't been the first time she questioned his intentions and probably not the last.

Despite her mind telling her no, her heart screamed _yesyesyes_ as she quickly wrote Draco a reply back, inviting him over for dinner. Ginny still hadn't shown and Hermione was positive if she did, she wouldn't mind at all.

Hermione heard the oven alarm and walked back into the kitchen to finish dinner.

.

.

.

Draco arrived in her living room just in time.

Hermione had finished up setting the table for two with a nice sunflower in the middle of the table. She placed the baked chicken, mashed potatoes, and green vegetables on the table before turning around to greet Draco.

"Hey," Hermione smiled politely, offering to take his coat and place the clothing in the hallway closet.

"Hey yourself, Granger," Draco smirked, handing the brunette his coat, watching her walk to down the hall.

He would never get over how pretty she truly was.

"I can feel you staring," Hermione softly teased once she turned back around and Draco smirked at her blush.

"I like what I see."

Hermione rolled her eyes, gesturing to the dining room table. The smell of delicious food hung high in the air and she was starving. "Well, enough of that. The food is going to get cold."

Hermione sat in one of the chairs, motioning for Draco to join her.

The blonde Auror wasted no time sitting down across from Hermione. He was dressed exactly how Ron and Harry had been earlier sans the tie and messy hair.

"This smells amazing, Granger. Thanks for inviting me," Draco said, helping himself to the food. His mouth practically watered at the sight of the chicken. He had never had a woman cook a home cooked meal for him. Not even his mother, who wouldn't be caught dead in a kitchen.

Draco would never tell Hermione, but she was slowly but surely melting the cold exterior that guarded his heart.

"Oh, it's no problem. I didn't want to eat alone and I doubt Ginny's gonna be home tonight anyway," Hermione said, scooping some vegetables onto her plate.

Draco swallowed his bite of food before speaking. "Oh, I see how this relationship works, Granger. You only invite me over when your little Gryffindor friends aren't around."

Hermione rolled her honey brown eyes, knowing Draco was only teasing her.

"Now you're catching on," Hermione said, mocking Draco's tone.

"How was work today?" Draco asked, his face a stare of indifference as he scooped up a spoonful of mashed potatoes.

Hermione blinked, her fork hovering over her plate in a bemused pause. It was such a mundane question, but it rattled her core. Ron had never asked about her day nor cared. She didn't think Draco _cared_ either.

' _He's just being polite.'_ She told herself before answering.

"Good actually. Busy and tiring, but good, nothing major happened today and for that, I'm thankful. Lately it's been so crazy and busy because we're so understaffed. I swear, if they would let _me_ run the floor one whole day. I love our Head Healer, but she's bloody mad sometimes - "

Hermione dropped her fork, covering her mouth, her doe eyes wide. "Oh, I'm sorry, Malfoy! You ask me one question and here I am rambling on and on. You could have stopped me any time." Hermione blushed, avoiding his grey eyes. Merlin help her.

Draco smirked, his eyes amused. "I like hearing you talk, Granger."

Hermione blushed once more, but nonetheless continued.

Their dinner went on comfortably with intellectual conversation Hermione hadn't had in awhile. Draco was so clever and snarky yet cold and hard. Hermione loved when she could see the hard egdes fade away even for a moment.

They finished up dinner in light conversation, Hermione clearing the food and plates away with magic.

Draco was on his way out, announcing he had work early in the morning as he put on his coat before Hermione stopped him.

"Malfoy?"

"What is it, Granger?"

"Why... _me?_ "

Draco stared at her puzzled, arching a perfectly groomed eyebrow and Hermione tried not to embarass herself under his piercing stare.

Hermione looked away before continuing, twisting her hands nervously, not liking how vulnerable she was making herself to be in front of Draco.

"Why... after all these years..." Hermione struggled to find the right words to say.

"I mean, I'm everything you were taught to hate. And now all of sudden, I'm supposed to believe you're past that and want to be around my company? I'm supposed to believe you _like_ being around me?"

Hermione grimaced, wincing when she realized what she had said. She hadn't meant it to come out so harsh, but her insecurities had gotten the best of her and she took it out on Draco, who had been nothing but pleasant and kind to her.

Draco sneered, clearly offended but quickly masked his stare with stoic indifference. He narrowed his grey eyes - cold and hard and full of anger.

"Sod off, Granger. You think you're so much better than everyone and I definitely don't need this shit. I see _you_ haven't changed." Draco glared and Hermione tried to stop him before he left.

"Malfoy, wait - "

Draco was gone with a loud _Snap!_

"I'm _sorry."_


	7. Chapter 7

Harry Potter was having a nice day. It was late into the evening on a warm Saturday night. He had spent his off day doing absolutely nothing and enjoying every moment. No time for chores or cooking dinner for himself, he laid lazily on his couch as watched horrible Muggle soap operas while he waited for his Chinese takeout.

At least that's how Pansy found him when she appeared in his fireplace.

"Pansy!" He exclaimed happily, watching the dark haired woman step out of the fireplace elegantly, dusting black soot off her shoulders.

"Potter, you lazy arse, is this what you've been doing all day?" Pansy asked sarcastically, her high heels echoing across the hardwood floors as she stopped in front of him, kicking her heels off before straddling his hips on the couch.

Her knees dug into the soft cushion and Harry's hands easily made their way to her waist.

"I've been saving all my energy for you," He replied cheeky, his emerald eyes dancing with amusement and desire.

Their relationship started a little over two weeks ago now and Harry could honestly say he was having the best time of his life with Pansy. She challenged him, made him see life in a different light with that snarky attitude of hers. In all honestly, she made him feel _alive._

"I'm sure," Pansy said, rolling her icy blue eyes playfully. Her expensive black dress was starting to ride up her pale thighs, exposing the lacy black panties she wore underneath.

Pansy started kissing Harry's neck, enjoying the way his breath hitched and the sound of his pounding heart. She loved to make him squirm.

Not one to back down from a challenge, Harry grabbed Pansy's hair, making her look up at him.

Her blue eyes darkened with desire. The kinky little witch.

As Harry was about to turn the tables, Draco's unfriendly black owl swooped in quickly, dropping a sealed letter onto Harry's chest before leaving without a treat.

Harry scrunched up his eyebrows, opening the letter, annoyed Malfoy wanted to disturb his time with Pansy.

Smirking at her chance, Pansy started feeling up Harry's thigh as his eyes scanned the letter, her fingers dancing slyly across his pants zipper.

Groaning, Harry closed the letter and allowed the parchment to slide to the floor. He picked up Pansy's hand from his thigh, kissing her hand lightly as he said, "Malfoy said he needs back up. Apparently, some shit went down thirty minutes ago and I need to hurry."

Pansy rolled her eyes, kissing Harry's cheek and leaving a bright red lipstick mark as she said dryly, "Duty calls."

.

.

.

Harry arrived to the location Draco sent him ten minutes later.

It was now dark outside in downtown Muggle London. The full moon hung high in the sapphire night sky as stars glittered for miles. The neighborhood streets were quiet and the glow of the streets lights illuminated the empty roads.

His footsteps crunching against the soft green grass, Harry spotted Draco's crouched figured not too far ahead of him. He was hiding behind a huge oak tree with bushes allowing him cover.

Auror instincts in motion, Harry quietly neared Draco, careful not to startle him or reveal their position.

"About bloody fucking time," Draco scowled at his partner, using Muggle binoculars as he eyed a house in front of them.

Harry ignored him. "Mind telling me why you called me out here on my off day?" He asked quietly, looking at the house Draco was eyeing. All lights were off in the modest house and there was no car outside.

"Anonymous tip," Draco said simply, binoculars still on his eyes.

Harry raised his eyebrows and Draco huffed before continuing.

"Remember last summer when those attacks happened on the Muggleborn students from Hogwarts? Avery Greensworth lost her parents and a few other parents were tortured during the holidays."

"How could I forget?" Harry asked, "You and I did everything we could to find the bastard."

And they had. That case was one of the very first cases Harry and Draco had worked on together. While they had a mutual respect for each other after the Second Wizarding War, the trust was not there between the two wizards. Harry didn't trust Draco with his life and Draco barely tolerated Harry. Until that mission.

Draco and Harry had worked on a few lighter missions, but this one was _real_ danger in a way. After the defeat of Voldemort, dark wizards and evil seemed to vanish - retreat into hiding now that the biggest threat to the wizarding world was eliminated. As an old Auror once told them during their Auror training - "Evil never truly goes away. People will always find a way to succumb to the dark side. Not everyone is wired to _be_ good. That's why we're here - to stop them from doing the bad."

That summer was horrifying. During the first few weeks of July, Avery Greensworth family was attacked while she was home from Hogwarts during the holidays. The attack happened in the middle night while everyone in the house was asleep. Draco and Harry had been called out of bed to an horrific murder scene.

To this day, that night haunted Harry. As soon as Aurors crossed through the door, they could _feel_ the dark magic radiating from the house. Inside her parents room, the dark magic was suffocating. The smell of iron lingered in the air; blood was everywhere - on the walls, bed, carpet. The dark color stained Avery Greenworths' parents, oozing out of various pores on their bodies. They had died a painful, slow, tragic death while their daughter was tied up and forced to watch. The word _Mudblood_ was wrote on Avery's forehead with her parents blood.

That night, Harry realized the following of Voldemort still continued and lived on vigorously. He was so ignorant and naive to believe it would be over once he defeated the Dark Lord. There were still wizards out there who believed in the prejudice, bigotry, asinine bullshit. There were still monsters who would _murder_ innocent people all because of their blood. As Avery sobbed in Harry's arms, he vowed to never stop catching dark wizards.

Two more Muggleborn families were attacked in that week - tortured into insanity while their children were forced to watch. Harry sometimes wondered if death would have been a better option.

Draco and Harry spent days, weeks, _months_ on that case. The two would spent weeks together hiding out undercover in the dark, sketchy, abandoned parts of the wizarding world where only the lost and evil would go. They had hoped someone would have talked - very few had and the suggestions ended up in a dead end. Harry and Draco spent many nights hoping for a sign, hoping for a trace to track, hoping for _something_ or someone to give them an edge as to who and _where_ this person was.

The person, or _persons_ , were intelligent. They were always gone moments before Aurors arrived - nothing but their trace of dark magic left behind. Harry grew so frustrated with the case he brought in Magical Law Enforcement and had them use DNA from the victims home to see if the prints matched anyone in the system. It had been a long shot and they came up with little results.

By the end of September, with no more attacks or sightings or information - Moody brought Draco and Harry back from undercover. They both protested - still so angry and defeated over the case from the summer. All they wanted was to catch the murderer and throw him in Azkaban. Moody claimed he needed them more at the Ministry and that the murder and tortures were starting to become a cold case - no leads, no description of the person, no DNA - they were hitting a dead end and with no more attacks, they had very little to work with.

Until tonight.

"Someone warned me an attack would happen at this location tonight."

Harry crunched up his forehead, "And how reliable is this source?"

Draco shrugged, "Not the best, but it's been over a year now without a word. I figured it would be smart to at least entertain the idea."

Harry eyed him.

"Moody doesn't know, does he?"

Draco sneered.

"Listen, Potter, if you want to be a scared little Hufflepuff, by all means go fuck yourself and let me do all the work."

Harry ignored his partner, snatching the binoculars from his hands and using them himself.

Draco smirked beside him.

"And how sure are you this is even our guy from last summer? What if this attack is irrelevant to that case?" Harry asked, noticing a light flickering on in one of the rooms.

"I guess we're going to find out."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Don't you imagine we need backup for this?"

"No, as hard of a time we had last year, I don't want this wizard to have any idea we're on to him. He's smart. He has premeditated each of these attacks and then all of sudden stops after the third one? I think we scared him into hiding and now he's back and ready to play because he thinks we've given up."

Harry couldn't argue with Draco because he believed that theory as well.

A few more lights flickered on in the house.

Harry and Draco both straightened up, their eyes wide, ears open, and wands drawn. After a year of silence, this could be the break they were searching for.

A loud, ear splitting, tortuous scream tore through the silent streets.

Harry and Draco exchanged a look. Without another word, their Auror instincts in full affect, they silently but hurriedly headed across the yard as Draco quickly cast a wandless _Silencio_ to silence their heavy footsteps.

Harry inhaled a large gulp of fresh air, his heart pounding, adrenaline pumping through his veins. This is what he _lived_ for - catching Dark Wizards and making the world a better place.

Another scream tore through Harry's soul - he had to act _fast._

Without a second thought, he took off running, his wand blazing, and broke into the house from the outside window with a quick _Alohomora._

Draco cursed another his breath all the while following Harry's footsteps. Of _course._ Why did he ever think Harry bloody Potter was going to stick to the script and not rush in like a fucking Gryffindor.

Right behind Harry, Draco entered the house with a quiet thud.

He could literally _feel_ the dark magic entering in his pores. He could practically taste the souless magic, making his stomach churn and his heart beat fast. Thinking of all the innocent lives lost and tortured, he shoved the unpleasant feelings down and focused on the task.

Finding Harry crouched around the corner near the staircase, they both exchanged nods - a mutual understanding that needed no words.

As Harry climbed the stairs first, Draco had his back to Harry's back, walking backwards to ensure no one would try to sneak attack them.

With both their wands drawn and following the tortuous screams heard from upstairs, Harry promised himself this would be the last time this dark wizard ever preyed on another family.

Focusing on the sound of the screams, Harry tried to pinpoint which room the victims were currently in. There were three rooms and he needed to be right the first time.

Another scream rattled Harry's core.

The _left_ bedroom.

Harry silently motioned to Draco that was their door. They positioned themselves and held their wands steady and straight.

Draco kicked the door open with a loud bang.

Harry rolled his eyes. Trust Malfoy to add the dramatics.

The sight made Draco want to be sick.

There was a young girl - she couldn't be much older than twelve, tied up in the corner with her mouth covered by duct tape and her eyes wide as she freely sobbed loud, heartbreaking, fear induced tears.

In the middle of the room laid the girl's mother, sobbing and screaming and pleading for her life. The culprit of her screams was on top of her, straddling her and carving deep wounds into her flesh with his wand as he made her young daughter watch. The Dark Magic in the room was suffocating.

Harry had his wand out before he could even think.

 _"Expelliarmus!"_

The unknown wizard dodges the spell with a quick shield. He turns and all Harry and Draco can see is black robes and a black mask as two dark eyes stare back with murderous intent. He's muscular, almost six foot in height with dark hair.

" _Alarte Ascendare_!" Draco exclaimed seconds after Harry, lifting the dark wizard up from the sobbing Muggle women and in the air, throwing him harshly back against the wall.

The wizard was tough and he had dueling experience. Without a second to spare, his mask still in tact, he was on his feet with his wand out, firing spells rapidly.

" _Levicorpus_!" The wizard yelled, the spell hitting an unexpected Draco and lifting him up the air by his right foot.

" _Incendio!"_ The wizard casts seconds later, causing a fire to appear right under a dangling Draco.

" _Stupefy!"_ Harry exclaimed and the wizard jumps out the way in a matter of seconds.

Draco's heart starts pounding rapidly in his chest. The fire was close enough to burn the ends of his pale blonde hair. With quick thinking, he exclaimed, " _Aqua Eructo_!" and a long stream of water shoots out from his wand, extinguishing the fire.

Draco is still upside down in the air as Harry yelled, " _Petrificus Totalus!"_

In the same moment, the dark wizard jumps out the way and shouts, " _Fumos!"_

A defensive black and grey cloud of smoke fills the room in seconds and with a sinking heart, Harry knows they have missed their opportunity.

Casting a quick charm to clear the smoke, Harry looks around quickly, his eyes darting to every inch of the room in seconds with his wand drawn.

The wizard was gone.

" _Fuck!"_ Draco exclaimed, angry, still hung upside down in the air.

Harry casts a spell and Draco hits the floor with a loud thud and groan.

"Thanks, mate," Draco scowled sarcastically, pulling himself up with elegance only a Malfoy could have in this situation.

He groans quickly, adrenaline fading as he starts hissing out in pain as his left arm dangles in an awkward position.

"Bloody fucking hell, Potter. Way to break my arm, prat," Draco snapped, undoing the daughter with wandless magic.

Harry shrugs nonchalantly, "Sorry."

Harry quickly makes his way over to the mother, who is still screaming and sobbing in pain, withering across the floor in agony.

Draco and Harry exchange wordless looks and without another word, _Apparate_ with the daughter and mother to St Mungo's.

.

.

.

"Hermione!" Harry called out in the vacant emergency room to St Mungo's. It was a late Saturday night and he could be very wrong, but he _hoped_ his bestfriend was working the night shift that evening.

He really needed her.

Glancing down at the sobbing woman in his arms, he casts a quick glance over to Draco, who was grimacing in pain all the while trying to comfort a hysterical twelve year old and failing miserably.

By the grace of all fates, Hermione Granger rounds the corner with a coffee in one hand and a clipboard in another.

She sits her coffee down quickly, eyebrows scrunched up in confusion, "Harry? _Malfoy?"_

She tries to tell herself this isn't the time or place for her heart to start beating frantically at the sight of Draco. It had now been almost two weeks since their argument and this was her first time seeing Draco since he stormed off from her flat.

Quickly taking in her surroundings, she inwardly scowled herself for her childish feelings when she noticed the bloody and sobbing victims in Harry and Draco's arms.

" _Hermione,"_ Harry says in relief, his arms tiring from the weight of the woman he was carrying, "I _need_ your help. Please, help me."

Without another word, Hermione calls for two more Healers and summons a gurney with her wand. Lifting the older woman gently out of Harry's arms with magic, she placed her on top of the gurney and allowed the two Healers to take her to a private room.

Focusing her attention on the little girl sobbing in Draco's arms - trying her best to ignore said blonde as she did so.

"Hey," Hermione said gently as the girl hiccups in between her sobs. "I'm Hermione. What's your name?"

To the amazement of both Draco and Harry, the little girl stops crying long enough to tell Hermione her name.

"Isabella, but my mom calls me Izzy." At the mention of her mother, large tears welled up in her bright blue eyes.

"Is my mom going to be okay?" Isabella asked Hermione, finally allowing Draco to sit her down as Hermione crouched down in front of Isabella to ensure they were the same height.

"I have two of our best Healers here healing her right now," Hermione said reassuringly, placing a comforting hand on Isabella's shoulders.

"Do you see those doors right there?" Hermione asked, pointing down the hallway. "Your mum is in one of those rooms getting better right now, but Izzy," Hermione turns to the girl seriously.

"It'll do no good if you don't allow me to fix you up as well."

Isabella sniffs, watching Hermione stand up and offer her a friendly hand. "Follow me, Izzy. I'm just going to make sure you're not hurt, okay?"

"Okay."

Draco watches Hermione take the little girl by the hand into one of the vacant rooms down the hall. His heart constricts slightly, pride swelling in chest at the heartwarming scene. Trust Hermione to calm even the most hysterical child with ease. His past anger towards the witch was gone and he wanted nothing more than to spend his time with her after this eventful evening.

After about twenty minutes, Hermione emerges from the room, closing the door behind her quitely. She walks down the hall and around the corner to the waiting room where Harry and Draco were sitting.

"Oh, for Merlin sake," Hermione scolded, hands on her hips as she eyed the two boys in front of her, noticing the way Draco kept grimacing in pain. "Come, come, let me fix you both up."

Harry laughed, shaking his head as he stands up, "I'm fine, 'Mione. No injuries, I just wanted to make sure they were going to be okay."

Hermione nodded in understanding, looking down at her clipboard for her notes. "They're still healing the mother, but I'm positive she'll make a full recovery. Isabella is fine as well. I gave her a dreamless sleeping draught to calm her nerves. Poor thing is likely traumatized."

"I'll be back tomorrow for a witness statement," Harry said, running a hand through his messy black hair while he rolled his green eyes. "Meanwhile, I have to go wake Mad Eye up in the middle of the night and explain why Malfoy and I went on an unclassified mission without backup."

Hermione chuckled, hugging Harry good-bye as she stood on her tip toes to kiss him on the cheek, "If you said so. Owl me tomorrow."

"Will do. Goodnight, 'Mione."

Harry's footsteps echoed down the silent hallway.

Hermione turned towards Draco, who was silently pouting in his chair, grimacing in pain.

"Well, c'mon," Hermione said, motioning for Draco to follow her down the hall. "I can't have you sitting in the lobby all night with a broken arm."

The two entered the small hospital room with slightly awkward silence.

Hermione was trying to remain as profesional and expressionless as possible. Her emotions on the inside were going crazy. She couldn't express herself with only one feeling. She felt giddy, angry, excited, annoyed - _happy_.

The two weeks without Draco were lonely, in a way. Nothing had really changed in Hermione's day to day routine. She still went to work every day, bantered with Ginny, meet up with Ron and Harry for lunch during the week, snuggled with Crookshanks, wrote her parents - _but_ something was missing.

And she hated admitting that to herself. She hated how Draco Malfoy had crawled his stupid way into her mundane life and turned her world upside down. He was everything she thought he wasn't. He had surprised her more and more as the days went on. She wanted to break down all the walls he surrounded himself with and hear that _beautiful_ , rare, amazing laugh of his once more. Hermione hadn't realize how smitten she was by Draco until she heard his laugh that day on the lake. She wanted to her that wonderful melody on repeat.

Until their fight or spat or disagreement - or whatever it was. When Draco had left, she tried owling him once two days later, but he never returned her letter. So, she continued on, waking up day by day, as if he had never been in her life at all. And everything _was_ normal - except for the gaping black void in Hermione's life she didn't even realize she had until Draco was no longer there to fill it up.

And now, here he was, scowling in pain with a broken arm, waiting for her to heal him.

"I don't have all bloody night, Granger," Draco spat more harshly than he intended. Partly because he was in intense pain and the other reason was because he hated the way his emotions went into overdrive around Hermione.

Since Draco was a child, he had concealed his true emotions behind a nicely built facade. Only showing emotions of annoyance and anger, he was able to control everything else with a blank face or scowl. Since that very first day in St Mungos almost a month ago, Draco was slowly but surely losing the perfectly built control around Hermione.

He could try and put up a front around her, but she always saw through - always saw _him._ So, he was absolutely pissed from their last conversation; avoiding her was the only way he knew how to deal with their situation without losing control _again_.

But now here he was, propped up in front of Hermione with a broken limb while she healed him, trying to conceal how bloody _happy_ he was to see _her._

Hermione rolled her honey brown eyes, "I could always heal your arm the Muggle way if you want to be an arse."

Draco scowled.

Hermione smirked, holding her wand steady towards Draco's arm.

" _Episkey,"_ She said clearly and evenly.

Draco's arm was suddenly very hot and then ice cold. He looked away, choosing to stare at ahead at the too bright wall and only looking when Hermione said, "All done."

Flexing his fingertips, Draco couldn't be more thankful for magic.

Draco met Hermione's honey brown eyes and he swore he lost all control.

Had her stare always been that intense? That heated and longing? He wanted to find out.

"Well," Hermione cleared her throat, looking away first as she slipped her wand into her pocket, her heart pounding against her ribcage. "I have other patients and it's late - you should go home and get some rest. "

Draco swallowed thickly, "Yeah." His voice is hoarse and he's so bloody _tired_ and sore and just _fuck._

Why couldn't he allow himself to say all the words he wanted to say to Hermione?

Hermione turns around quickly, picking up her discarded clipboard from the counter, her footsteps echoing in the silent room as she makes her towards the close door.

With her hand on the door knob, Hermione looks back, smiling slightly. "Goodnight, Malfoy."

"Goodnight, Granger."

Hermione turns back around, her brown curls swaying as she closes the door without another word.

Draco already misses her.


	8. Chapter 8

Draco sneered.

The loud, high pitched, girlish laughter continued.

Bloody hell. He should have stayed home alone on his off day with just Auror reports and house elves for company. He could already feel the beginning of a headache coming on as Daphne and Pansy proceeded to exchange gossip with each other.

Who's idea was this again?

Draco glared at the brunette male, talking loudly and gesturing obnoxiously with his hands, huddled in between Pansy and Daphne.

"Anyway, can you believe Zabini is shagging _Ginny Weasley?_ "

 _Theo._

Honestly, he was worst than the girls.

Baise rolled his hazel eyes beside Draco, picking invisible lint off his fashionable Muggle blue jeans, looking bored. "Don't entertain the witches with ideas that simply aren't true, Theodore."

Theo faked gasp as the girls whispered mockingly beside him.

"Zabini, I'm hurt. I would never lie on you."

Blaise shot his childhood friend another heated glared, pouring himself a rather large shot of Firewhiskey. Theo could make anyone want to drink themselves into an early grave.

The former Slytherins were currently reuniting and day drinking their problems away in Theo's loft. The group of five hardly found time to be in the same room altogether between their personal lives, work, and everything in between. And although, it was always nice when they could find time for each other, none of would ever admit that to each other's face. They weren't the Golden Trio for Salazar's sake; expressing feelings of love, kindness, and friendship just wasn't their thing.

It had only been an hour so far, but Draco's patience was already wearing thin. He really could only take his friends in short doses. Especially the girls.

The summer sun was high in the cloudless blue sky, rays of sunshine and natural light filling up Theo's living room with natural hues of red, orange and yellow as the colors created a peaceful and calm vibe. The cool breeze drifting in from the opened sliding door leading to the patio, mingled with their scents of expensive perfume and colognes, liquor, and cigar smoke.

"Oh, Draco, you look miserable!" Daphne cooed, noticing his ever permanent scowl as she crossed her long legs.

"What's up your knickers, yea?" Pansy, the least sympathic person out of all of them, asked.

Draco gulped back a swing of whiskey, eyeing his two closest female friends. Hell, his _only_ female friends.

"You lot are troublesome and annoying," He said simply, pouring himself another shot, causing Daphne, Pansy, and Theo to erupt in giggles.

"I think it's Draco's time of the month," Theo fake whispered to Pansy and Daphne.

"That explains it all," Pansy deadpanned, eyeing her perfectly manicured nails.

"Oh, leave poor Draco alone," Daphne giggled, flipping her long blonde hair over shoulder. "You know how he gets."

Draco glared at all three of them, drowning his shot.

Blaise merely smirked, sipping his whiskey, pleased the attention had been shifted from him to Draco.

Draco frowned, annoyed he was hardly feeling the effects of the whiskey. He was also frustrated it had been entire week since his last conversation with Hermione, but he wasn't about to admit that to himself, much less tell his friends about it.

"You know," Blaise started slyly, grabbing the bottle of Firewhiskey to pour him and Draco another shot. "A little birdie told me that Pansy was currently shagging The-Boy-Who's-A-Vampire-And-Just-Won't-Die _Potter._ "

"Harry is not a vampire!" Pansy rolled her eyes.

"Scandalous!" Theo exclaimed, his brown eyes starting to become hazy from the alcohol. He leaned acoss the table, almost knocking Pansy and Daphne's drinks over in the process, as he cupped his chin and tilted his head to the side, his brown curls dangling right above his eyebrows. "Tell me more!"

Draco shot Blaise a thankful look for attracting the attention off of him for the moment.

Pansy elbowed Theo in the ribs, causing him to howl out in pain.

"Pansy! Nobody needs your bony ass elbows in their ribcage," Theo grumbled, sitting back down in his seat, rubbing at his side.

Pansy shrugged nonchalantly beside him. "Don't be such an arseface."

Daphne giggled beside them.

"Who I decide to fuck is _none_ of you prats business," Pansy said, sniffing.

Theo grinned cheekly. "So, you _are_ shagging up with Potter. You traitor!"

Pansy scoffed. "Traitor or not, Potter gives good head." She waved her manicure hand dismissively.

Daphne laughed loudly, showing her pearly white teeth, "That's one of your requirements for marriage, Pans?"

Draco scowled. "What you and Potter do is your business, please spare the rest of us the disgusting details."

Pansy rolled her eyes, "Just because you're not getting your willy wet, Draco, doesn't mean the rest of have to suffer."

Blaise snorted beside Draco, amused how their conversation ended up going.

"Hell, Draco, if you needed help getting your willy wet, all you had to do was ask," Theo said with a smirk.

Draco wanted to bang his head against the table.

"Speaking of Potter, he wants us all to get together for a dinner. Y'know, reunite friends and enemies all in one place. Don't ask me, he's a bloody Gryffindor, after all. We want to get together next weekend, yeah?" Pansy asked.

Theo groaned loudly, snatching the bottle of Firewhiskey from Blaise and pouring himself a double shot. "Really, Pans? Don't tell me, Weasley and Granger will be there as well."

Pansy rolled her icy blue eyes, "Of _course._ You know they can't go to the loo without the other one following behind like a lost duck."

Blaise chuckled, "Fuckin' Gryffindors."

It took sheer willpower for Draco not to start firing off hexes.

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Hermione was restless and tired and so sick of missing someone she knew didn't miss her back.

The last week had been miserable. Even more bothersome than the two weeks her and Draco had their argument. She didn't want to admit it to herself, but it hurt to know they weren't fighting, that they were _okay_ \- to an exent - and they still weren't speaking.

She would lay in her bed for hours the past week, tossing and turning; questioning, searching, wondering, _asking_ herself over and over again why it matters so much to her.

This was _Draco Malfoy_.

He _shouldn't_ matter.

So why did it feel like her heart was breaking into a million little pieces?

Why did it feel like she lost someone she never even had to begin with?

Why did it feel like he was _so_ close, but so far away?

Why was it every time she was around Draco her heart stopped, pulse raced as adrenaline coursed through her veins like magic and she couldn't even form coherent thoughts?

Why was all rational decision gone out her head as soon as she met his grey eyes?

Why was his laugh the greatest melody she had ever heard?

Why did he have to be _so_ damn good looking?

Why couldn't she and Draco be in another life - an alternative universe without their past or history?

Why couldn't they just _be?_

Why was everything so damn difficult?

Why did she have to _feel_ so much when she knew he felt so little for her?

Why couldn't she get him out of her bloody fucking head?!

 _Draco. Draco. Draco._

"Hermione?"

Hermione jumped, startled, dropping her paint brush onto the ground in the process with a thud, blue paint splashing everything.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked, concerned. "You just spaced out there for a few minutes."

Hermione blinked, giving Harry a fake reassuring smile.

"I'm fine, Harry. Thanks for asking. I just have a lot on my mind."

Harry picked up her discarded paint brush from the floor, handing it to her. His green eyes still looking worried.

Sometimes, Hermione hated how well Harry knew her.

"If you say so," Harry said, elbowing her. "But you know I'm always here if you want to talk."

Hermione gave Harry a real smile. No matter what happened in their life, or how old they became, Hermione knew she would always have Harry. The bond the two of them shared was stronger than any friendship or family love - Harry was her soulmate in every way but romantic. She would gladly _die_ for Harry over and over again if that ensured his safety.

"Oy, can you two stop gossiping! We got work to do! I need all the negative energy Lavender left behind in my flat gone and out of here," Ron announced loudly, walking into his living room with more cans of paint.

Personally, he would have preferred to paint with magic, but _no_ , Harry and Hermione wanted to do it the Muggle way.

Hermione rolled her eyes, flinging specks of paint from her paint brush onto Ron's white shirt.

"Please, you act like you and Lavender won't be back together next week."

Harry nodded beside her in agreement, coating the wall with a nice shade of light blue. It was best for him to stay out of those conversations.

Ron shook his head, joining Harry and Hermione, "Nope, I caught her cheating this time. I can't stand cheaters. I'm hurt - don't get me wrong. But why couldn't she just call it off, y'know? Not string me and some other sorry bloke along."

Harry patted Ron on the shoulder. "It's alright, mate. Plenty of witches flying on a broomstick. You'll be okay."

"I agree, Ron. You don't need her. Besides, you always got me and Harry," Hermione said, suddenly feeling a strange sense of nostalgia.

Sometimes, she missed the old days when it was just the three of them. Laughing, enjoying impulsive adventures and then some not so, fighting death and destruction by each other's side, running and hiding and destroying Horcruxes together. Those memories would never leave her. Harry and Ron were apart of her as she was them.

"Alright, alright," Ron blushes, flinging blue paint onto Hermione and Harry.

"Ronald, you got paint in my hair!"

"Oy, watch the glasses!"

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Ginny woke up early to the sound of Crookshanks clawing at her door, hissing to be allowed in her room. Apparantly, Hermione had been on call the night before and St. Mungo's needed her early that morning.

She glared at Crookshanks as she opened the door to her room, allowing him entrance, as she caught sight of Hermione leaving their flat.

Yawning and stretching, she made her way to the kitchen to grab a cereal bar and a glass of orange juice. She didn't plan on being awake this early, but since she was, she might as make the most of it.

Eating her pathetic attempt at breakfast, Ginny trudged her way into her room, glaring at a sleeping Crookshanks before opening up her closet and grabbing black track pants and a white sports bra. Quickly dressing into her workout outfit, she pulled her long red hair into a high ponytail, grabbed her white tennis shoes and headed out the door.

It was beautiful Sunday morning. The sun was bright and hot as the wind blew and the birds sang.

Sunday was only day she had off from Quidditch and here she was exercising early in the morning.

Oh well. At least her calves would look good.

Starting off in a sprint, Ginny soon slowed down to a nice jog, her feet hitting the pavement in a nice rhythm as her heart thumped against her ribcage. She concentrated on her breathing and tried so very hard not to think about a certain someone.

It was easier when she had Quidditch practice every day and matches on Saturday; she was usually so exhausted afterwards she had no time to think about anything else except for sleep. Hell, she hadn't even seen Hermione much these last couple of weeks because of their conflicting schedules.

But now as she jogged by a Muggle park, looking on at a small family eating breakfast and enjoying the sun, she felt a pull at her heart.

She missed Blaise.

And she _hated_ to admit that to herself.

Blaise had really hurt her and it took a blow to her pride and ego. She hadn't even seen him since that night he came throwing pebbles at her window.

The memory actually made her laugh now.

Wiping the sweat off her forehead, she finally made a decision.

With a smile, she turned down the block and continued running.

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.

Later that evening, Hermione stepped out of her shower with a long, tired sigh.

Today had been exhausting and she no longer wanted to relive the events of the last day. All she wanted was to curl up with a nice book, Crookshanks, and some chocolate. She had another long day tomorrow as well, but she rather not think about that.

Opening the door, she walked down the hallway into her room, quickly dressing into a red tank top and grey sweatpants. She plucked a novel off her bookcase, not even bothering to look at the title as she walked into the hall and down to the kitchen.

Looking around, Hermione wondered where Ginny had been all day. She was sleeping when she left for St. Mungo's this morning and she expected her to be home when she got off work like she always was on Sundays, but she wasn't there.

Shaking her head, she pulled out her hidden chocolate stash from the pantry and headed to the living room, smiling as Crookshanks waited for her on the couch.

Hearing a loud clap of thunder, she jumped. Cursing inwardly as heavy rain began to thump along their roof.

Oh well. At least she was inside.

Turning on the telly for background noise, she curled herself up on the couch, cracking open her book as she ate into her chocolate.

She wasn't even finished with her first chapter when she heard a series of loud knocks on her door.

Biting her lip, she looked at Crookshanks sideways. Who on Earth would be knocking at her door in the pouring rain on a Sunday night? Ginny wouldn't knock and had just talked to Harry and Ron before she left St. Mungo's that afternoon.

Making sure her wand was in her pocket, she opened her front skeptically.

The rain was pouring down hard. Heavy, loud, droplets of rain splashed against the concrete as little visibility could be seen through the storm. Thunder and lightening began to crackle in the background, illuminating the dark sky with flashes of white gold.

And there he stood, looking absolutely beautiful in soaked slacks and a white button up shirt. His pale blonde hair wet and sticking to his forehead. Driplets of water dropped down his bangs, sliding across his high cheekbones as he stared at her through long dark eyelashes. His mesmerizing grey eyes staring into her _soul._

Hermione's breath caught in her throat as her heart pounded against her ribcage, adrenaline coursing through her veins and she swore time _stopped_.

She couldn't breathe.

She couldn't think.

She couldn't _believe_ he was standing right in front of her.

 _Nothing_ else seemed to matter except the two of them standing in the doorway as they stared at each other in the pouring rain.

"Draco?"

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 **Author's Note: **Sorry it took so long! I had lost my muse for a second. I hope you enjoyed and please **review**! I'd love to know your thoughts.

Have a great day everyone!


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